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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758132">Freelance Good Guys: Blue Boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys'>TheGreys (alienjpeg)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Looming Gaia [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Looming Gaia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, Centaurs, Discrimination, Dragons, Elves, Explicit Language, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Magic, Slavery, Slice of Life, Team as Family, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:35:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor can live the rest of his life like a king…All he has to do is sacrifice the Freelance Good Guys.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Looming Gaia [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/833844</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Culture Shock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is part of the Freelance Good Guys series. I recommend at least reading “Monster by Moonlight” and “Lost and Found” first or this one won’t make a lot of sense. For art, discussions, memes, and more about the World of Looming Gaia, check out the blog: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost</p><p>This isn’t the usual action/adventure story you’d expect from this series. This one is more of a humorous slice of life piece that explores Drifter’s Hollow through the eyes of an outsider.</p><p>Please heed the tags for content warnings. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[CHAPTER 1: CULTURE SHOCK]</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>            <em>SUMMER, 6008</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            “Dearest Evan,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            Do you remember when I told you Kelvingyard was destroyed? Well, I regret to say that things have only gotten worse.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            Slaves all over the kingdom started rebelling when they heard news of the breakout. Every slave that acts up seems to inspire two more. The hobs are turning on us like rabid mongrels! Did I mention the roving packs of so-called ‘liberators’? Some of those who broke out of Kelvingyard formed militias, and they’ve been causing trouble all over Noalen. Freeing slaves, killing Evangelites, starting fires, it just goes on and on...</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            Worse yet, the military is too busy with the war to stomp them out. They just finished rebuilding Kelvingyard, but I don’t expect the economy to recover any time soon. Farmers are struggling the most. Mama is having such a hard time. Edmund hired some extra overseers to protect her, but most of her slaves have already run off.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            Even we’re having a hard time making ends meet in the city. We barely have anything left over to send to Mama each month. We’re paying 5 gold pieces for a single apple these days, and we’re lucky if it doesn’t have a worm in it!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            Connor joined the military last year. Let’s just say they didn’t appreciate his attitude. Now he is bound and determined to become a Kelvingyard slaver, and I don’t need to tell you this is the absolute worst time for him to do so. He’s going to get killed! He is grown now and I can’t tell him what to do. So I told him if he wants to visit his uncle for a few months, I would pay his way. He’s gotten so big and ornery, I can’t handle his outburst anymore! I had no choice but to kick him out. He’s been staying with his grandmama for a while now.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            He desperately needs a good male role model in his life. Edmund is a solid provider, but he’s…well, you know how he is. Connor has no respect for him at all. The boy is totally out of control.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            My dear baby brother, I have a big favor to ask of you…Won’t you take him in, if only for a while? Yes, he’s strong of will, but he’s strong of body as well. He can work very hard when he puts his mind to it. Maybe you can put him to work and he can send some money back to Mama. Gods know she could use it right now. I know it’s dangerous east of the border, but I daresay it’s getting just as bad here these days. Maybe even worse. I just want Connor to stay safe until things calm down. With any luck, I hope he’ll learn a skill or two and drop the whole slaver idea.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            I love you, little brother. Please write back as soon as you can.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            Sincerely,</em>
</p><p><em>            Abigail Galanis</em>”</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p><p>            Wind swept over the dry, rolling plains of the Blue Valley. Connor watched the grass undulate in hypnotic waves as he stood on his grandmother’s porch. A duffel bag was sitting by his feet, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. They were overstuffed with clothes and supplies, but he had no idea how much of it he really needed. He knew not what was waiting for him east of Evangeline’s border.</p><p> </p><p>            His Uncle Evan would arrive soon to take him away. Connor was as excited as he was nervous. During his last visit, Evan told him that he and his crew lived in a big compound deep in the wilderness. Connor imagined a great, war-torn castle standing proud atop a mountain, overlooking savage encampments. How else could a human survive out there, among magic and half-beasts?</p><p> </p><p>            The front door creaked open behind him. Connor turned and saw Grandmama Sofia struggling over the threshold with her walker. A scarf was slung over one of its handles. She unfurled the scarf and wrapped it around Connor’s neck before planting a kiss on his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor looked at the garment in befuddlement. “Grandmama, it’s the middle of summer!”</p><p>“I know, dear one. But your uncle lives on a mountain called Frostbite Crag,” replied Sofia. “With a name like that, it must be terribly cold! I hear all of Folkvar Kingdom is covered in snow and ice. I just want to make sure you’re prepared.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s brows arched. “On a mountain? Really? Do you think there’s cyclopes up there?”</p><p>“Gaia’s bones, let’s hope not!” gasped Sofia. She pressed a hand to her heart and shook her head, as if to shake the terrible thought away. After a moment, she said, “Your uncle is a strong man. A <em>good</em> man. He isn’t going to let anything bad happen to you up there.”</p><p> </p><p>            Her tone was as distant as her gaze. She seemed to be reassuring herself more than her grandson. “And anyway,” she continued, “it can’t possibly be more dangerous there than it’s gotten here—not with all these liberators running around! I think it’s best for you to stay elsewhere.”</p><p> </p><p>            “What about you?” asked Connor. “You should come with me. I bet Uncle wouldn’t mind.”</p><p>Shaking her head, Sofia replied, “No, dear, I couldn’t possibly. <em>Someone</em> has to stay here and manage the farm. Besides, I have those ogre gentlemen guarding the property now.” She gestured vaguely out to the fields. “Had they been here earlier, those liberators would have never set foot on my property in the first place. I’ll be okay, I’m sure of it. It’s <em>you</em> I’m worried about.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Hobs don’t scare me,” Connor told her. “I’m only going because I wanna see Uncle’s compound. I’m so sick of this stupid kingdom. Maybe I’ll just stay there and never come back!”</p><p>“Well, I do hope you’ll at least visit me from time to time…”</p><p> </p><p>            A twinge of guilt pulled at Connor’s heart. He assured her, “Er, yeah, of course. But if the queen calls for a draft? They should have thought of that before they sacked me! If things get much worse, the army will be begging me to come back…”</p><p> </p><p>            “That’s <em>exactly</em> why I want you on the other side of the border, young man,” said Sofia. She licked her fingers, then reached up and smoothed his overgrown hair back. It was brown and dark, almost black like his father’s, and the faintest hint of stubble was beginning to grow upon his face. He was clad in a cotton outfit typical of the region; with dirty leather shoes and a lightweight blue jacket.</p><p> </p><p>            They could hear a faint rumbling sound over the wind. Connor shielded his eyes from the rising sun and saw a horse-drawn cart rolling down the eastern road. “That must be them!” said Sofia. She turned back towards the open doorway and called inside the house, “Habrene, dear, our guests will be here soon! Please fix them something to eat, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Yes, ma’am, at once!” a voice called back, that of her most trusted elven slave. Connor shoved his trembling hands in his pockets as he watched the wagon approach. It started on the horizon and took the better part of twenty minutes to cross the vast stretch of land to the farmhouse.</p><p> </p><p>            Sofia was already hobbling down the ramp to the porch before the wagon rolled to a stop. She trapped Evan in a tight squeeze the moment his feet touched the road. “My dear, sweet boy! I missed you so much! It’s been ages!” she cried, pulling his head down to plant kisses all over his face.</p><p>“Missed you too, Mama,” he told her, carefully returning the embrace.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac stepped out of the wagon after him. Both mercenaries were clad in armor, Isaac’s of leather and Evan’s of steel, with an arsenal of weapons on their belts. Isaac snickered at his captain, then went rigid with surprise when Sofia came for him next. She squeezed him close to her bosom and kissed his cheek, cooing, “And you brought my grandbaby with you! Goodness, look how much he’s grown! Like a beanstalk, this boy!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Hi, Grandma Sofia,” grunted Isaac. Evan’s expression sagged as he looked out at the fields around him. The once orderly rows of barley were dried out and overgrown with weeds, some of the fields completely reclaimed by nature. No less than ten slaves should have been tending them, yet all he saw were three old goblins sluggishly harvesting what they could. An ogrish overseer watched over them, armed with a long, wooden rod.</p><p> </p><p>            Sections of fence had collapsed. Animals were roaming free outside their pastures, each one looking thin and mangy. One of the barns clearly needed new shingles. There was a lot to be done and not enough hands to do it. It had only been a year since Kelvingyard collapsed, and Atlas Farms was already starting to go down with it. Evan’s face burned hot with guilt.</p><p> </p><p>            “Mama, what happened to the fields?” he queried. He already knew the answer, but he was curious to hear what propaganda the kingdom was making of it.</p><p>His mother waved her hand and sighed, “Oh, the whole property’s in a state right now! A gang of those liberators came through back in early spring, just before planting started. They made off with most of my slaves, then went ahead and helped themselves to the shed and everything in the stable too! I lost all my tools and my best animals that day, it was terrible!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Aww, Mama, I’m sorry…” Evan frowned. “Abigail mentioned something in her letters, but I didn’t realize it was <em>this</em> bad. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”</p><p>“No, dear. Thank Mother Gaia for that! I was asleep the whole time. I’m just grateful they didn’t torch the house while they were at it. They gave the neighbors a lot more trouble than they gave me. Stole every one of the Newberry’s slaves, burned down their barn with all their animals in it, and then those monsters killed their oldest son in cold blood! They were just devastated, that poor family.”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan slowly nodded. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of him wanted to confess, to tell his mother he was at least partially responsible for this. To grovel at her feet for forgiveness and tell her he never meant for things to be this way. But perhaps that wasn’t the wisest idea. He already cannibalized her husband and nearly killed her with worry. He didn’t want to find out where her love for him ended and resentment began.</p><p> </p><p>            He tossed a coin to the carriage driver and told him, “We’ll just be a few minutes.” Tipping his hat, the driver pulled out a book and reclined in his seat. Sofia, Connor, Evan, and Isaac made their way into the house. They slipped off their shoes before they stepped over the threshold, then the mercenaries collapsed in the two plush chairs in the sitting room.</p><p> </p><p>            They both looked boneless and weary, and Sofia could tell their journey hadn’t been an easy one. Evangeline Kingdom had strict laws about air travel, which had only tightened since the Kelvingyard incident. Most of the central countryside was deemed a no-fly zone ever since. Shadow was surely boarded all the way in Evangeline Capital, meaning the mercenaries had no choice but to finish the journey to Greenhearst by ground. They must have been on the move all night.</p><p> </p><p>            Sofia and Connor sat down on the couch across from them. Seconds later, Habrene arrived and set a tray on the table between them. Upon it were four glasses of beer, buttered biscuits, and cheese wedges.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan was the first to reach for the food, quietly thanking Habrene as he did. The elfenne tipped her head to him and posted herself by Sofia’s side. The rings on her iron shackles jingled when she folded her hands before her.</p><p> </p><p>            “You’re a blessing, Mama. I was starving!” Evan spoke over a mouthful of biscuit. His lycanthrope hunger overruled his manners.</p><p>Sofia smiled. “I knew you would be. It was a long journey, wasn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Longer than it had to be,” muttered Evan.</p><p>Before he could explain, Isaac blurted, “We got attacked on the way here!”</p><p> </p><p>            “What?” gasped Sofia, dropping her biscuit on the floor.</p><p>Evan gave Isaac a nudge and explained, “It was nothing serious, I assure you! No one was hurt, everything’s fine. They just held us up for a few extra hours, that’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Who attacked you? Was it bandits?” asked Connor.</p><p>“Er, not exactly…” Evan began carefully. He cleared his throat and continued, “I guess they were one of those slave liberation groups. They saw our armor and thought we were Kelvingyard guys.”</p><p>“They almost killed us then and there!” added Isaac.</p><p> </p><p>            Sofia let out another gasp, pressing a hand to her heart. Evan promptly stuffed a cheese wedge in Isaac’s mouth and continued, “They didn’t hurt anyone! They held us at some hideout until their leader came to speak with us. He confirmed our identities and sent us on our way, easy as that. They were headhunting slavers—which we are obviously not—so we were never in any danger. I was just annoyed that we missed our train.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Evan, those terrorists have been slaughtering random civilians left and right! You were in more danger than you realize! Oh, I could have lost you all over again!” exclaimed Sofia. Tears were welling at the corners of her eyes. She removed her glasses, swiping them away as Evan kneeled before her.</p><p>“No, no, Mama, don’t cry! Please, you’ll give yourself another heart attack! We’re fine, see?” he pleaded, taking her hand in his own.</p><p> </p><p>            “This is exactly why I want you to take Connor out of here!” his mother sniffled. “Things have gotten so out of control, I’ve never seen anything like it in all my life! I daresay this kingdom is crumbling right before our eyes!”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan sat on the arm of the chair and hugged his mother tight. “Don’t say that. The Guard will sort this out eventually. Connor will be safe with us in the meantime, I promise. We’ll teach him how to defend himself against just about anything.” Turning to his nephew, he asked, “You spent some time in the military, didn’t you? What rank did you earn?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He hesitated for a long moment. Raking his fingers through his hair, he answered, “I, uh…none. I never passed boot camp. B-but it wasn’t my fault! These guys kept picking on me and they got me in trouble! What was I supposed to do? <em>Not</em> hit them?”</p><p> </p><p>            “He was dishonorably discharged,” explained Sofia. “Probably for the best. Gods forbid he die at the hands of some Folkvaran savage! The military is no place for you, Connor. You should go into business like your father.”</p><p> </p><p>            “I’d rather die,” he grumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.</p><p>Evan chuckled, “You and I are two of a kind. Don’t worry, you’ll learn plenty of different skills at the compound. If you prove yourself, maybe we can take you on a mission or two.”</p><p>Connor’s gaze snapped towards him. “Wait, really? What kind of mission?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Evan, please! If he comes back with so much as a scratch, your sister will march over there herself and have your head!” said Sofia.</p><p>“Not every contract ends in bloodshed,” Evan assured them. “Trust me, mercenary work is more boring than you think. Most of it is just waiting around and arguing with grifters.”</p><p>Isaac added, “No kidding. Last week me ‘n Glen had to guard a warehouse for fifteen hours straight. We got so bored, we started punching eachother just to pass the time. I <em>wish</em> some thief would’ve tried something! Usually all you gotta do is stand there and look scary.”</p><p> </p><p>            “I can do that,” said Connor. “What’s the pay like?”</p><p>“We’ll discuss all that later,” Evan replied, rising to his feet. He knocked back the last of his beer and set the glass aside. “We should really get going soon. It’s going to be a long trip back. Have everything you need, son?”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac answered with a mouthful of biscuit, brushing his hands of crumbs, “Yep.”</p><p>Evan shook his head. “Not you. The other ‘son’. Connor?”</p><p>“Grandmama made me take everything but the kitchen sink, and she would’ve thrown that in too if it’d fit,” Connor told him.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan smiled. “Good. Then I suppose we’ll be on our way. One last hug, Mama?”</p><p>“I wish you weren’t leaving so soon,” said Sofia, wrapping her arms around him once more. “But I certainly don’t want you travelling in the dark! Please write me as soon as you get home so I know you’re safe.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Will do.” Evan nodded, then turned to Habrene. “Thank you for helping Mama through all this madness, Habrene. Come here, you deserve a hug too!”</p><p>He spread his arms wide. The elfenne tipped her head and approached him, grunting when he squeezed her tight around the middle. She felt the weight of gold coins discreetly dropping into her dress pocket.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “<em>Stay loyal</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>            With that, he casually released her and clapped his nephew on the back. “Alright, crew. Let’s get moving, shall we?”</p><p> </p><p>            Sofia waved them goodbye from her porch, watching until their wagon disappeared back over the horizon. There was so much that had gone unsaid, and that should probably remain unsaid forever.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan regretted telling her about their capture at all. Indeed, a group of gaian slave-liberators had dragged him and Isaac into the hills earlier that day for questioning. But what she didn’t know was that their leader recognized Evan from the fall of Kelvingyard. He was a colossal centaur with tattoos on his face, a shaghoof like Elska with an equine coat of silvery-white. Apparently he’d escaped Kelvingyard and gone on to lead this little gang of rebels. He was known only as “Steel-Breaker”.</p><p> </p><p>            Had Steel-Breaker not recognized him, Evan knew he would have never left that hideout alive. It was dumb luck that carried them safely through the Blue Valley that day, and he prayed they had enough luck left to see them back home.</p><p> </p><p>            The covered wagon shielded them from the sun, but it could not protect them from the heat. Isaac slumped lifelessly in his seat, sweating buckets in his leather armor as he fanned his face with a comic book. Connor glanced over at him. He squinted at the book and queried, “Is that a Loopy comic?”</p><p> </p><p>            A big smile spread across Isaac’s face. He replied, “Sure is! It’s the new one! Wanna read it?”</p><p>Connor shot him a strange look and chuckled, “What am I, five? I don’t read that kiddie shit.”</p><p>“Hey! Watch that language,” warned Evan.</p><p> </p><p>            “Language?” Connor recoiled slightly. “Are you kidding me? You kill people for a living and you’re gonna bust my balls for saying naughty no-no words?”</p><p>Evan raised a palm, explaining calmly, “I don’t know how your parents do things, but I run a tight ship. I don’t keep foul company. I expect everyone on my crew to conduct themselves morally and professionally whether they’re on a contract or not.”</p><p> </p><p>            “So, does that mean I’m officially part of your crew?” asked Connor, brows arching high.</p><p>Evan told him, “It means you <em>can</em> be, if you prove that you’re worthy enough. We don’t take just anyone, even if they share our blood. If mercenary work is something you really want to do, I need to be absolutely certain that I can trust you.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Okay. Gotcha,” said Connor. “So, kind of like boot camp. Except you’re not yelling at me and making me do push-ups.”</p><p>Evan cracked a smile. “Not yet,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>            “Uh, for the record,” Isaac broke in, “I don’t think Loopy the Hoopsnake is <em>that</em> great. I just picked it up ‘cause it was cheap. I mean, free. It was free! I never read this stupid kid stuff.” His voice cracked with lies as he rolled up the comic and stuffed it under his seat.</p><p> </p><p>            Wearing a smirk, Connor droned, “Riiight…” and began rifling through one of his bags. He pulled out a comic book of his own, a tattered old thing that was barely holding together. He tossed it in Isaac’s lap and said, “Check this out. <em>Raiders of Rockreach</em>, issue one. Best series of all time! This is one of the vintage prints, you can’t get these anymore. They censored out all the good stuff in the new ones. The queen thinks we’re all little babies who can’t handle a little grit, I guess…”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac carefully flipped through the pages. He scanned over panels of black and white artwork, seemingly telling a story about a gang of bandits. The artwork was gritty and bold. He stopped on one panel, in which human was bludgeoning a satyr over the head with a club. Blood and gore spilled violently out of the panel and down the side of the page, and all Isaac could do was laugh.</p><p> </p><p>            Quirking an eyebrow, Connor queried, “What? What’s so funny?”</p><p>“First of all,” Isaac began, pointing to the image, “there’s <em>no way</em> a human could break a satyr’s skull like that. They’re hard as iron! Also, I’ve wiped enough brains off my armor to know that’s not what brains look like. Not even close. Whoever drew this must have been drunk.”</p><p> </p><p>            The Evangelite boy’s face flushed beet-red. He swiped the comic back and stammered, “Yeah, well…the first couple issues aren’t the best. But it gets better, seriously! The story is actually really deep. You almost have to be a genius to understand it.”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan said fondly, “Ah, <em>Raiders of Rockreach</em>. An Evangelite classic. I used to read that when I was a—” He paused, cocking his head at the copy in Connor’s hand. He took it from him and examined it closer, asking, “Wait a minute. Connor, where did you get this?”</p><p> </p><p>            His nephew replied with a shrug, “I dunno. I found it in dad’s office a long time ago and he said I could have it. Didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking…”</p><p>Evan traced his finger over the back cover, where someone’s initials were marked in blue ink.</p><p> </p><p>            “<em>E.F.A</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Well, I’ll be damned! This is <em>mine</em>! Or it used to be, until your papa stole it!” He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. He leaned forward and pointed out the initials to Connor. “Look here, I initialed it and everything.”</p><p> </p><p>            “What do you mean, he stole it? Are you saying my papa’s a thief?” asked Connor.</p><p>Evan passed the book back and told him, “Your papa’s a lot of things, son. All I’m saying is, he jumped me on my way home from school one day and ran off with this thing. Denied it up and down for thirty years, and now here it is again. I have half a mind to pay him a visit and wave this right in his face!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Ugh, please, no more detours!” begged Isaac. “I just wanna go home already!”</p><p>Connor grumbled, “Papa ‘n I split on bad terms, last I saw him. Gave him one little bop in the mouth and now he won’t even talk to me. Mama doesn’t want much to do with me either.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Alright. I suppose I’ll save that for another day then,” decided Evan. After a moment, he said, “You sure picked a strange time to visit the Hollow. I don’t know how much your grandmama told you, but we had a bit of a, uh…forest fire a while back. You’ll have to excuse the mess. We’re still getting everything back in order.”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac added, “Man, I wish you could have seen it before! There was a dining hall, and a boarding house, and this big, spiky wall that went all the way around the compound. We had electricity, kind of, and we were so close to having plumbing too!”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor whipped around to face him, eyes rounded like dinner plates. “There’s no plumbing up there?”</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p><p>            The Evangelite boy had high expectations when he left his homeland. Those expectations were dashed the moment he stepped out of Shadow’s gazebo.</p><p> </p><p>            He turned all around, gaze crawling over the Hollow. Where was the war-torn castle sitting atop the mountain? Where were the streets bustling with armored mercenaries and siege weapons rolling to and fro? There wasn’t even snow on the ground!</p><p> </p><p>            “Welcome to Drifter’s Hollow,” said Evan, sweeping his arm to present the tiny, primitive village before him. Connor saw an open market in the distance, where only a handful of patrons roamed. A hut of sticks and grass stood not far from that, with a makeshift sign posted beside it. It must have been a medical clinic, for a mortar and pestle symbol was painted on the sign.</p><p> </p><p>            There wasn’t much else to see but some scattered tents. All around them was a vast stretch of untamed wilderness. Blackened tree trunks jutted up from the ground, dressed in cloaks of moss and flowering vines. Otherwise, the only living trees to be found were little conifer saplings struggling through the summer drought.</p><p> </p><p>            “This is it?” queried Connor. “This isn’t a fort, Uncle! This is a…a campsite, at best! Are you serious?”</p><p>Evan told him, “Like I said, that fire did a number on this place. See that market over there? It used to be twice as big, and that plaza was surrounded by homes and businesses. Poke around in the dirt a little and you’ll find the ruins. But I wouldn’t advise it, because if you think Blue Valley nymphs are bad, the ones in the Hollow are downright vicious! You have to tread lightly around here. Follow me, and for Gaia’s sake, do <em>not</em> step on the grass.”</p><p> </p><p>            With that, he lead Connor down the narrow, dirt road through the so-called “village”. They headed south until they passed into an area marked by a flimsy wooden fence. A humble stone house greeted them to their right.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan turned to the house and said, “This is where Isaac and I live. It’s one of the few structures that survived the flames. There was still quite a bit of water damage though, so try not to judge too harshly. It still needs a lot of work yet.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor and Isaac followed him inside. Connor’s face scrunched at the sight of the interior. Before him was a small sitting room with two mismatched living chairs, a stone hearth, a bookshelf full of damaged books, and a desk cluttered with paperwork. A tattered rug was thrown over the floor, but there were no floorboards below it. There was only dirt, and so the room resembled a barn more so than a house.</p><p> </p><p>            “Uh…where’s the floor?” asked Connor.</p><p>“We burned it for firewood,” answered Isaac.</p><p>Evan elaborated, “A lake’s worth of rain leaked in after the roof was destroyed. Almost everything had to be thrown out. I don’t even have a bed for myself currently, and I regret to say I don’t have a one for you either. Now, you have two choices: we can set up a bedroll for you in Isaac’s room or you can sleep in a tent outside. Your call.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor froze, slack-jawed in disbelief. He assumed he’d have his own chamber in the castle atop the mountain, where he could thrust open the shutters and look down at the peasants below. Instead, he was either going to sleep on the floor like an animal, or sleep outside like an animal. Either way, he wasn’t impressed.</p><p> </p><p>            “Tent, I guess,” he mumbled.</p><p>Evan nodded. “Very well. I’ll have one of the Guys set that up by tonight.”</p><p>“Wait,” began Connor. “Grandmama said you lived on a mountain called Frostbite Crag. Was that the mountain we saw flying in? Don’t you have an outpost up there or something?”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan paused, then chuckled, “Is that what she told you? Aww, poor Mama. I’m sorry, she must be getting a little senile. We don’t live <em>on</em> Frostbite Crag—that would be crazy! That mountain is infested with cyclopes and all kinds of nasty critters. No, we just stay at its base. Close enough to keep the kingdoms at bay, far enough to keep monsters away.”</p><p> </p><p>            “And the weather,” Connor continued. “She said Folkvar Kingdom was covered in ice. It’s not even chilly!”</p><p>Evan sighed, “Look, folks back home don’t know a lot about the world outside. Queen Indiga keeps you ignorant on purpose. I promise, once you’ve spent some time out here, you’re going to return home with a whole new set of eyes. You’ll be able to see things in ways you’ve never seen them before.”</p><p> </p><p>            “I knew it!” exclaimed Connor. “They keep censoring all the good comics, see? And the best ones, they outright ban! But when I ask the librarian, he just tells me those books never existed, like I’m mental or something! The kingdom’s keeping secrets from us, huh?”</p><p>“All kinds of secrets,” replied Evan. “The kingdom’s been lying right to your face your whole life. It’s something I can’t really explain to you. You’ll just have to uncover the lies for yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>            He turned to Isaac and said, “We’ll take Connor to Woodborne tomorrow and get him fitted for armor. In the meantime, why don’t you introduce him to the other Guys? I have a lot of work to catch up on here.” He gestured to the paperwork strewn across the desk in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac nodded and led Connor back outside. They travelled further down the path until they arrived at Drifter’s Lake. The evening sun sparkled against the calm ripples on its surface. A little red boathouse was beached near the shore, where a man was banging a hammer against its wooden hull.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac waved at the man and called, “Ahoy, Glen! We’re back from Greenhearst!”</p><p> </p><p>            The man turned around to face him, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. He was short and round in stature, with long, yellow hair and a beard to match. He was smeared with mud from his sleeveless shirt down to his boots.</p><p> </p><p>            “So ya are!” said the man. He jabbed his hammer towards Connor. “Who’s this? Nabbed yerself a little boyfriend while you were there, did ya?” He let out a laugh, loud and gruff.</p><p>Connor inhaled to shout at him, but Isaac was faster. The young mercenary jested, “What, you jealous or something? No, this is Evan’s nephew, Connor. Connor, this is Glenvar Thunderhorn. He’s got a magic rock in his chest and he can drink more than most trolls. That’s all you really need to know.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Hey, I’m just messin’ with ya. Evan told us all about ya,” Glenvar assured him, then extended his hand for a shake.</p><p>Connor accepted it and asked, “Yeah? What did he say?”</p><p>“Said things were gettin’ hairy in blue country and yer parents wanted ya outta there fer a while,” answered Glenvar. “That’s fine by me! We could use some extra hands around this dump. I don’t need to tell ya everything looks like shite at the moment!”</p><p> </p><p>            He spread his arms and gestured around at the lake. The ground was littered with tools and building materials, with a wheelbarrow full of bricks parked nearby. Glenvar patted the side of the boat and continued, “See this vessel here? This is my house. ‘Least it was, ‘til the lake sucked it down like a two-coin <em>kirksleker</em>! Soon as she’s back on the water, all’s right in Glen’s world again. How ‘bout ya grab them boards ‘n help me with the port side?”</p><p> </p><p>            He pointed his hammer to the pile of lumber behind him. Isaac and Connor picked up either side of a board, holding it in place while Glenvar nailed it to the naked frame. It seemed he had already pried the older boards off, for there was a pile of rotten, slimy wood lying off to the side.</p><p> </p><p>            As he pressed the board to the frame, Connor asked, “What about this magic rock thing? That’s a joke, right?”</p><p>Glenvar spoke over the nails he held between his teeth, “No joke. I got swallowed by a whale back in Halostira and met the Divines of the Sea in ‘er belly. They blessed me with a dragon’s <em>flamcor</em> ‘n spit me out! I been hot-blooded ever since!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Bullshit!” exclaimed Connor, wearing a smirk. His gaze flicked between Glenvar and Isaac, looking for any cracks in their expressions. He found none.</p><p>Instead, Glenvar said, “Don’t believe me? See fer yerself!” He spit out the nails, tossed the hammer aside, and pulled his shirt up to his chin. The warm, orange glow pulsating beneath his flesh melted the smirk right off Connor’s face.</p><p> </p><p>            “Woah! But what is…? How is it…?” Connor stammered, squinting and straining to understand what he was looking at.</p><p>“Yer guess is as good as mine,” said Glenvar, pulling his shirt back down. He picked up his hammer again and returned to the ship. “Those crazy <em>stiras</em> just shoved it in there like they were stuffin’ a roast! I don’t even wanna understand it.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Does it hurt?”</p><p>“Nah. Feels good! Keeps me warm! I can whip my clothes off on the coldest day of winter, at the coldest hour of the night, and you won’t catch me shakin’ fer a second.” Glenvar put the nails back in his mouth and began hammering a new board.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor had plenty more questions, but he instantly forgot every one of them when he saw a blue-haired woman approaching. She appeared from behind a curve in the road, carrying a heavy log upon her head. She was clad in a striped bikini top and tattered little shorts, exposing scaly, green legs. The same scales were visible around her eyes and down her cheeks, and her lips were as vivid and blue as her hair.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s mouth fell open at the sight of her. He did not know who, or even <em>what</em> she was, but he found her ravishing all the same. She tossed the log near the pile of lumber and stopped in front of the group. “My wood’s bigger than yours,” she told Glenvar with a smirk, then jerked a thumb towards Connor. “Who’s this kid? One of your bastard sons?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor promptly introduced himself with a little bow. “Name’s Gonner Calan—er, Connor Galanis, ma’am! I’m Captain Atlas’s nephew. I just came up here to help out for a while. You know, do some heavy lifting. You won’t have to carry stuff like that anymore as long as I’m here.” He tipped his head at the log.</p><p> </p><p>            The woman laughed, reaching out to pinch his cheek as if he were a child. “I know who you are, dummy. I’m just teasing! You guys must have just got here, huh? And Glen’s already put you to work! Go figure…”</p><p> </p><p>            “I’m just showing him around. Evan wants him to meet all the Guys,” said Isaac, pointing his chin towards Connor.</p><p>Alaine clapped her hands together and greeted, “Oh! Well, hi! I’m Alaine Fontaine; smartest, strongest, and sexiest, of the Freelance Good Guys. I basically run things around here. If you need anything, you know who to talk to.” She punctuated herself with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>            “Yes, ma’am!” said Connor, expression beaming brightly. After a pause, his smile faltered and he turned to Isaac. “Hold on a sec. <em>She’s</em> a mercenary?”</p><p>Isaac answered, “Yeah, one of the best on our crew!”</p><p>Alaine loudly cleared her throat and corrected him, “Ahem! <em>The</em> best! I pull twice my weight around here while you guys drag your asses like dogs.”</p><p> </p><p>            She snatched the hammer from Glenvar and shoved him aside. “Ugh, see? Look, your boards are all screwy! You gotta hammer the nails in straight, like this…” She began hammering as Glenvar tossed his hands up and stepped away.</p><p> </p><p>            “You mean…” Connor began slowly, hands gesturing vaguely, “You actually let her use weapons and stuff?”</p><p>Before Isaac could answer, Alaine whipped her face towards him and barked, “’Let’ me? No one <em>lets</em> me do anything, kid! Whatever I want to do, I do it! Yes, I’m a real mercenary, and yes, I can fight just has hard as the menfolk. Harder, even! I can flip any one of these punks with a hand tied behind my back!”</p><p> </p><p>            “She ain’t kiddin’. She’s done it before,” said Glenvar.</p><p>Raising his palms, Connor said to her, “Okay, okay, no offense! It’s just that where I’m from, we don’t give womenfolk weapon permits.”</p><p>“Smart,” said Alaine. “’Cause the second you do, you menfolk are gonna have to cook your own dinner and wash your own socks. And then what? You’ll starve to death with dirty feet.”</p><p> </p><p>            Her blue lips curled into a wry smile that made Connor’s emotions burn hot. He couldn’t tell if it was the heat of anger or arousal, or perhaps a combination of the two. She left him frustrated either way, and he blurted, “You’re awful mouthy for a woman! What <em>are</em> you anyway? Some kind of half-snake or what?”</p><p> </p><p>            Alaine planted a hand on her hip, gesturing flamboyantly at herself when she answered, “What, you don’t know a mermaid when you smell one? Aw, of course you don’t. You’ve never sniffed a fish in your life.”</p><p> </p><p>            “What’s that supposed to mean?” snapped Connor, milky face flushing pink.</p><p>“Alaine, come on. He just got here!” said Isaac.</p><p>Alaine waved them away and replied flatly, “Well, don’t let me keep him! He’s a real peach! I’m sure the other Guys are just dying to meet him…”</p><p> </p><p>            She turned her attention back to the boat, and so too did Glenvar. Clearly their visit was over, so Isaac nudged Connor and led him further down the path around the lake. They walked down a long, creaky dock to a gazebo-like structure, standing near the middle of the lake.</p><p> </p><p>            The gazebo was covered by a grass roof. Its three walls were made of simple rope woven into diamonds, letting a pleasant breeze pass through. Inside the structure was a wooden chair, a bucket, and some kind of glass pipe with a bulbous end. A large musical instrument’s case was tucked into the beams on the ceiling, and affixed to the opposite wall was a primitive fishing pole.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor was so fixated on these strange things, he nearly fell into the gaping hole in the middle of the floor. Isaac pulled him back just in time. He said, “This is Mr. Ocean’s land-house. He has another house in the lake, so we all just kinda use this place as a fishing spot. I don’t think he minds that much.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Who’s Mr. Ocean?” asked Connor. He barely got the last syllable out before something shot up from the hole in the floor. Connor reeled back with a screech, slamming into Isaac and knocking them both on their backsides. A dark, green hand reached out of the water and clasped the wooden ledge. Yellow webs stretched between its clawed fingers.</p><p> </p><p>            The hand was followed by a second, then a flood of squirming, whorling tentacles. Connor screamed, fighting against the slimy planks as he tried to flee. Isaac grabbed him by his jacket and assured him, “Wait, wait! Don’t freak out, it’s okay!”</p><p> </p><p>            The Evangelite boy stopped his squirming, if only out of petrified horror as a great, yellow-eyed octopus-man crawled onto the dock before them. Among his many tentacles were two humanoid legs. Connor’s wide eyes followed them all the way up to a green face with even more tentacles upon it.</p><p> </p><p>            “Isaac! W-what is that?” he nearly shouted. It was more of a statement than a question. He flinched when the octopus-man took a step towards them, standing up to his full height. If Connor stood up, the top of his head would barely graze the creature’s chest. He had never seen such a monstrous thing in his life except in comic books.</p><p> </p><p>            “It’s just Mr. Ocean!” Isaac told him, helping him back to his feet. “He won’t hurt you! He looks a lot scarier than he is. Right, Ocean?”</p><p>The creature cocked his head slightly, squinting his eyes as if struggling in the daylight. He spoke back, each word slow and hoarse, “I don’t wish to hurt anyone. I thought I heard someone walking down the dock. Is this a friend of yours?”</p><p> </p><p>            “This is Evan’s nephew, Connor,” Isaac explained, gripping the other boy’s shoulders. Connor hadn’t blinked since he saw Mr. Ocean, still gawking and petrified.</p><p>“Ethan needs copper? Who is Ethan?” queried Mr. Ocean.</p><p>Isaac spoke to him in a way that was slow and clear, as if he were speaking to a child or a demented elder, “No, Captain Evan’s <em>nephew</em>. His name is Connor Galanis. Do you remember a few nights ago, when Evan said one of his relatives was coming to stay with us for a while? This is him. He’s going to help us around the village.”</p><p> </p><p>            Mr. Ocean furrowed his hairless brow, then a look of understanding smoothed his wrinkles. “Aaah,” he said, nodding rhythmically, “I don’t remember, no. But I am happy to meet him. Hello, new friend. You look just like your father!”</p><p>“Uncle,” Isaac corrected.</p><p>Mr. Ocean nodded again. “Uncle, yes,” he said, then extended his alien hand for a shake.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s eyes flicked up and down, darting between his hand and his glowing, yellow eyes. He hesitated for a long moment, looking to Isaac for guidance. Isaac simply nodded, and Connor forced his trembling hand forth for a shake. He cringed at the strange, textured palm and its cold clamminess. He couldn’t pull away fast enough, absently wiping his hand on his coat. It left a wet streak behind.</p><p> </p><p>            “Mr. Ocean’s a powerful wizard,” mentioned Isaac. “He can even make it rain when he wants to. Shoot, if it weren’t for him, that fire might still be burning!”</p><p>“You don’t say?” Connor croaked breathlessly. He never took his eyes off the creature as he leaned to the side and whispered in Isaac’s ear, “Does it eat people?”</p><p>“No! Of course not!” Isaac laughed, slugging him in the arm. “He’s a cecaelia! He eats…I dunno, fish and ducks and stuff. Same things we all eat.”</p><p> </p><p>            After a pause, Isaac faced Mr. Ocean and asked, “Speaking of that, have you eaten today?”</p><p>“Oh, yes! You were there, and the others too. We cooked a big moose roast together. It was a fine meal.”</p><p>“Uh…” Isaac cleared his throat. “Ocean, I’ve been gone since last night. That moose roast was <em>yesterday</em>. No one’s come around to feed you, have they?”</p><p> </p><p>            Mr. Ocean’s gaze drifted to the ground. Thoughtfully stroking his beard, he mumbled, “Er...um…I suppose not, no. What time is it?”</p><p>Isaac let out a quiet sigh as he reached into his rucksack. He found half of a jam sandwich wrapped in paper, which he passed to the cecaelia and said, “It’s lunch time. Here you go, buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>            Mr. Ocean accepted the sandwich with a little bow. “Ah, it smells sweet. Thank you, little friend. You are very kind,” he said, and Connor’s face blanched as he watched a tentacle-like tongue snake out from the cecaelia’s mouth. It snatched the sandwich and pulled it between two sets of sharp, translucent teeth.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac told him, “We gotta get going now. Go see Alaine, okay? She’ll get you sorted out.” He pointed the cecaelia towards the shore, where Alaine and Glenvar cursed at eachother as they worked on the boat. Mr. Ocean thanked him, bobbing his head in the rhythmic way he did, and collapsed back into the water. He resurfaced at the shore in a matter of seconds while Connor and Isaac made a much longer journey down the dock.</p><p> </p><p>            “What on Gaia’s green knockers <em>was</em> that thing?” Connor hissed, seizing Isaac by the sleeve.</p><p>“I told you, he’s a cecaelia,” explained Isaac. “You’ve never seen one before? Er, I guess there’s not many of them in the countryside, huh? They’re like, uh…magical octopus-people. You see ‘em a lot out by the coast.” He pointed vaguely towards the east.</p><p> </p><p>            “Ocean’s the only one of his kind in the Hollow,” he continued. “Don’t get me wrong, he <em>is</em> really powerful. Like, scary-powerful! But he’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Seriously, you don’t have to be afraid of him.”</p><p> </p><p>            “He seemed kind of…” Connor chose his words carefully. “…not all there, if you know what I mean. Are they all like that?”</p><p>Isaac paused, taking a moment to choose his words as well. Finally, he sighed, “No. Ocean’s just old and he’s got a weird fungus growing in his brain. Uh, he also smokes a lot of dreamleaf. Like, a <em>lot</em> of dreamleaf…”</p><p> </p><p>            “And you trust this demented old hob enough to let it live here?” blurted Connor. “It barely knew where it was, fella! You’re just asking for a disaster!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac shook his head and insisted, “It’s not like that! And he’s not an ‘it’ or a ‘hob’! Trust me, he’s a great crewman. He just needs a little help sometimes. We can’t send him on missions alone, and we have to remind him to eat.” He paused. “And wash…and take his medicine…and clean up after himself…and uh…The point is, we all look out for eachother around here. Everyone needs help sometimes, right?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor threw a look back at the shore behind him. He witnessed Mr. Ocean and Glenvar holding a board in place as Alaine hammered it to the boat. She missed her mark and drew back with a yowl after she struck her own thumb. She growled and cursed and stamped her feet until the cecaelia gently took her hand in his own. His fingers glowed with magic. He mended her thumb with a healing spell and she was back to work in seconds.</p><p> </p><p>            “I guess,” Connor muttered. He could see the top of a stone tower ahead, peeking over a tangle of fallen trees all overgrown with plants. Some of the trees’ roots had been unearthed completely, and these root systems were taller than five men standing on eachother’s shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>            He followed Isaac down the narrow, winding path that meandered around the forest debris until they arrived at the base of the tower. It stood three stories tall, though it didn’t leave much of a footprint. There was no way it could comfortably house more than one or two people, thought Connor.</p><p> </p><p>            “Looks like Jeimos is home,” said Isaac. The second-story window was aglow with a warm, flickering light.  He knocked on the door, and just a second later, jumped back at a loud booming noise from inside. The window above flew open and colorful smoke billowed out.</p><p> </p><p>            “Jeimos? Are you okay?” Isaac called. The smoke quickly dissipated, revealing a crimson-haired elf leaning out the window in a coughing fit.</p><p>“You startled me, chap! I’m doing very sensitive arcane work in here!” the elf called back.</p><p>Isaac apologized, “Sorry! Um, Evan’s nephew is here and I just wanted him to meet you. Can you come down for a sec?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Oh, I suppose so! Just give me a moment!” replied the elf, and they disappeared back into the tower. The window clicked shut behind them.</p><p>As they waited, Isaac whispered to Connor, “Jeimos is a pyromancer. If their ears start smoking or they suddenly burst into flame, don’t freak out. That’s normal for them.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” hissed Connor.</p><p> </p><p>            Before Isaac could explain, the tower’s front door creaked open and Jeimos stepped out to greet them. Connor took a step back, eyeing them warily. They were much taller than he expected, towering over him by at least a couple heads. Their long hair was bound in dozens of little braids and capped off with bronze clasps. Their tall, skinny body was draped in black leather robes from their neck to their feet, and their hands were covered by thin, black gloves.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s gaze bounced over them, up and down several times, trying to determine if they were female or male. Their hairstyle seemed feminine to him, though their voice was quite deep for a woman’s. The angles of their face were as androgynous as any other elf, and he could not see the shape of their body under their heavy clothes.</p><p> </p><p>            “You must be Mr. Galanis,” began Jeimos. “I am Jeimos Paramonimos. Evan told us so much about you! I’m terribly sorry to hear about your troubles back home. I had to flee my kingdom as well.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Uh, yeah…Hi…” Connor mumbled. He leaned closer to Isaac, waving his fingers towards the elf when he asked, “Where are its irons?”</p><p>Isaac quirked his brow. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Is it a slave or not? How do you know it’s not gonna turn on you?” Connor asked flippantly, as if it were the most obvious question in the world.</p><p> </p><p>            Jeimos pressed a hand to their chest and snapped, “I beg your pardon, sir?”</p><p>Raising his hands, Connor stepped behind Isaac and told him, “I don’t like this, fella! You guys are playing it reeeeal fast and loose around here, I’m telling you! One of these days it’s gonna cast a spell on you, and then what?”</p><p>“Connor, it’s <em>fine</em>!” Isaac insisted through his teeth. “I’ve known Jeimos my whole life! They’re not a slave, they’re my friend! And please, stop calling them an ‘it’!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Well, what is it then? A he or a she?” blurted Connor.</p><p>Jeimos answered, “I am neither. I am a ‘they’ or a ‘them’ or an ‘elf’, but I am certainly no ‘it’! An ‘it’ is a piece of property. I am a thinking, feeling person, am I not?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor swiped at the back of his shaggy head, floundering, “I—okay, sure. I guess out here, you are. But what <em>are</em> you?”</p><p>“I’m an elf. Obviously.”</p><p>“No, I mean, what’s in your pants?”</p><p>“My arse, that’s what!” exclaimed Jeimos, face contorted in offense. Their gaze shifted to Isaac. “Izzy, your friend is being bloody rude!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac sighed, “I think we started off on the wrong foot. Connor, Jeimos is a Freelance Good Guy. They’re not a slave, they’re a mercenary just like me. They’re one of my best friends. Why don’t you guys shake hands and start over?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor quirked an eyebrow at him. “You want me to touch it? You just said it could burst into flames!”</p><p>“Connor!” Isaac growled.</p><p>Extending a hand, Jeimos asked the Evangelite, “What’s the matter, chap? Are you afraid of little old me?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah!” Connor admitted. “How do I know I can trust you?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Just shake their hand,” Isaac told him flatly. “They won’t cast a spell on you, I promise. Right, Jay?”</p><p>Jeimos said, “I will not cast a spell on you, Mr. Galanis, you have my word. And I am bound to whatever I say, you know. We fae can never tell a lie. Nature simply won’t allow it!”</p><p> </p><p>            They extended a gloved hand to him. Connor looked down at it, then at Isaac, who nodded at him to go through with it. With a defeated sigh, Connor did so. He felt the thin, warm fabric of their glove as he clasped their hand. That gentle warmth suddenly became hot as a flame, and he drew back with a yelp.</p><p> </p><p>            He clutched his stinging palm and cried, “Ow! What the--? It just burned me!”</p><p>“Jay! Damn it, you said you wouldn’t cast a spell on him!” exclaimed Isaac.</p><p>Jeimos crossed their arms and turned their shoulder to him. “I didn’t,” they said. “I casted a spell on myself, and he just happened to touch it. That’s what he gets for trusting a<em> dirty elf</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Jaaay!” Isaac groaned, dragging his palms down his face. “Connor’s from a different culture, he doesn’t know any better! Can’t you cut him some slack?”</p><p>After a moment, Jeimos sighed, “Oh, very well. I’m sorry. Let’s just start over from the beginning.” They offered their hand once more. “I’m Jeimos Paramonimos.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor shoved his hands in his coat pockets and spat, “Forget it! You’re crazy if you think I’m falling for that twice!”</p><p> </p><p>            Jeimos let out a laugh, high and bright. “It seems you have a brain in there after all! Well done, chap! You’ll make a fine mercenary indeed.” Before Connor could react, they quickly reached out and pinched his cheek. Then they turned around and headed back towards their tower.</p><p> </p><p>            “It was, er, <em>interesting</em> meeting you,” they said, opening the door. “Now, I have some volatile experiments that really shouldn’t be left unattended. Have a good evening, you two. You won’t see me at dinner tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>            There was no time for questions before the door slammed shut behind them. Connor brought his hand to his cheek where the elf pinched him. It didn’t burn at all.</p><p> </p><p>            “Sorry about that,” mumbled Isaac, leading him back down the trail. “Jeimos is total a shut-in. They don’t get out much. I think they’ll warm up to you eventually.”</p><p>“Nah, I’m good. They already warmed up to me <em>plenty</em>,” Connor assured him, shaking out his raw, red hand. “See what I mean, Isaac? You can’t trust these hobs as far as you can throw them! This is why we keep ‘em in irons back home, because you just never know what they’re gonna do. They’re not like us. Even a stray dog’s more loyal than your best fae slave!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac shook his head and told him, “You’re wrong, Connor. You have to treat people with respect if you want it back, that’s just how it is.”</p><p>“But they’re not people, that’s what you’re not getting! They don’t even know what respect is, and they don’t deserve it even if they did!”</p><p>“What’s the matter with you?” snapped Isaac. He stopped on the trail, turning to face the Evangelite. “Evan told me you guys were ignorant over there, but damn! Do you seriously believe this stuff?”</p><p> </p><p>            Thrusting his finger at the tower, Connor enunciated every syllable as he growled, “That! Hob! Burned! Me!” He flashed his red palm for good measure and continued, “You keep saying they’re good people, but every one I’ve met has been mean or deranged or shifty! Show me a spell-lobber that’s worth my respect, and I’ll eat my hat!”</p><p> </p><p>            “You know, we have a saying here in the Hollow,” began Isaac. “If you smell crap everywhere you go, you should check your own shoes.”</p><p>“What does that even mean?”</p><p> </p><p>            “It means people are treating you like a jerk because you’re <em>being</em> a jerk!” Isaac told him, poking him in the chest. “I know things are different where you’re from, and believe me, I’m trying really hard to be patient with you. But you can’t just walk up to someone and ask what’s in their pants! You can’t call people an ‘it’ or assume they’re a slave just because they’re not commoner. What if someone did that to you? What if they assumed your parents were brother and sister just because you’re an Evangelite?”</p><p> </p><p>            “I’d punch them in the mouth!” said Connor.</p><p>Isaac replied, “Right! Exactly! So don’t do that to my crew, understand?”</p><p>“I…” Connor hesitated, furrowing his brow as if piecing together a puzzle in his head. “I think so, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>            A sigh of relief gusted through Isaac’s nostrils. “Good,” he said. “Then I’ll take you to meet the Steel Knuckle Squad next. They’re a little rough around the edges, but they’re all really nice. Everyone on the crew is nice. None of them would ever hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>            “If you say so. My hand still hurts, just saying,” mumbled Connor, and together they made their way back to the main road through the compound. They came to a clearing with a stone well in the center. Many canvas tents were erected around the edges of the clearing with a fire pit between them.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac tapped on the sides of four tents, but no one responded. “Huh, no one’s here. They must have gone out for supplies,” he said. Just as they turned to leave, they heard heavy hoofsteps clomping towards them. The tall grass outside the clearing shifted, closer and closer until a massive, golden-haired centaur emerged from the brush.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor yelped, “Woah! Shit!” and took cover behind Isaac. “Do you know this thing?”</p><p>Isaac seemed just as nervous as he was when he answered, “Uh, y-yeah. This is Elska. Um, hi, Elska.”</p><p> </p><p>            The centaur’s humanoid half was clad in steel-plated armor. She carried a bloody hammer in one hand and a doe’s hind legs in the other. The dead beast was casually slung over her shoulder like a bag. She tossed it on the ground and boomed at Connor, “Your face is new to me! Tell me your business in the Hollow!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Why is she yelling at me?” exclaimed Connor. Isaac felt the Evangelite’s hands trembling against the back of his shoulders.</p><p>“She’s not, she’s not! Please, calm down!” pleaded Isaac. He turned to Elska and said, “Elska, this is Evan’s nephew, Connor Galanis. He’s here to help us out for a few months. Sorry we can’t chat, daylight’s running out! We’ll see you later!”</p><p> </p><p>            With that, Isaac quickly ushered Connor out of the clearing and back down the road. They kept moving until Elska was well out of sight. Checking once, then twice that she was out of earshot, Isaac leaned closer to Connor and said quietly, “Remember when I said no one on the crew would hurt you? Yeah, uh…I forgot about Elska. She <em>might</em> actually try to kill you. You probably just…shouldn’t talk to her. Or look at her. Just stay away from her, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>            “What? Why? What’s wrong with her?” asked Connor, voice quivering.</p><p>Isaac’s expression contorted as he carefully picked through his words. “She’s just, uh…She’s from a different culture, like you! Except this culture isn’t like yours at all, and your people kind of killed her entire clan, and she kind of wants you all dead…”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac threw a glance behind him, checking for her presence again before he continued, “Evan told the whole crew about you, but he left a lot of stuff out when he told her. We’re not supposed to tell her you were in the military or that you tried to become a slaver. If you want to live, you shouldn’t tell her either. Elska’s a really intense character. If she wants you dead, none of us are gonna be able to stop her.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Is this a joke?” blurted Connor. “First you tell me these animals are nice people, and now you’re telling me there’s one running loose out here who wants to smear me? That bitch was the size of a siege weapon, Isaac! W-what am I supposed to do? I’m stuck here with her until spring! She’s gonna slaughter me!”</p><p> </p><p>            “No, she won’t! She won’t,” Isaac assured him. “Like I said, just don’t talk to her. It won’t be hard. She’s not much of a talker anyway.”</p><p>“What if someone else blabs to her? I already pissed off two of these hobs! What if they decide to open their mouths to get back at me?” Connor gestured his hands wildly, voice escalating with each word. He was beginning to panic. “Gods, this was a big mistake! I never should’ve come here!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Connor—”</p><p>“No wonder the queen’s so tough on magic! Oh man, what if those liberators really do take over? The whole kingdom’s gonna be like this! They’re gonna be flinging spells left and right at folks like me—”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac slapped a hand over his mouth, silencing his ramble. “Connor!” he hissed. “That’s exactly the kind of talk that’ll get you beat up around here! Just shut it, will you?”</p><p>Jerking his head from the mercenary’s grip, Connor mumbled, “So much for those ‘nice’ crewmen of yours. Beating someone up just for speaking the truth—yeah, real civilized!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac took a deep breath, ready to launch into an argument. But he had enough pointless arguments with clients under his belt to know he wasn’t going to get anywhere, so he simply let it escape through his nostrils. He led the way in silence until they arrived at Evan’s house.</p><p> </p><p>            “Evan, we’re back,” Isaac called lifelessly as they walked through the door. The captain was seated at his desk, pen scratching against paper. A single candle flickered beside him.</p><p>He barely glanced at them when he said, “That was quick. Did you get a chance to meet everyone?”</p><p>“Most of them,” answered Isaac. “We might be off to a bad start…”</p><p> </p><p>            “Oh? Why do you say that?”</p><p>Connor pointed an accusatory finger at Evan and snapped, “You didn’t tell me that big centaur bitch wanted me dead! Why would you even bring me here if you knew that? She’s gonna kill me, Uncle!”</p><p> </p><p>            Finally, Evan turned to face them. He set his pen down and replied calmly, “Connor, listen to me. This whole arrangement was made on very short notice. We’re still reeling from that fire, things are a total mess on my end, and my crew had to drop everything and scramble to make accommodations for you. So, yes, there are some people here who aren’t prepared to accept you. You’re going to have to ease your way in and earn their trust like the rest of us.”</p><p> </p><p>            “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” his nephew shouted, hands splayed helplessly before him.</p><p>Evan raised a finger and said, “You can start by minding that filthy mouth of yours! Just be polite. Be helpful. Be someone my crew can rely on, and eventually they’ll come around. Elska didn’t used to like me either, you know. The first day we met, she dropped a severed head on my dinner plate and challenged me in combat. But today, she is a fine and loyal friend. I know you can be her friend too, you just have to put the effort in.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor let out a long groan and thumped his head against the wall.</p><p>“We couldn’t find the Steel Knuckle Squad,” mentioned Isaac.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll show up for dinner later.” After a moment of thought, he added, “I’ve got an idea for you, Connor. Why don’t you cook up something to bring to dinner? The best way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. It’ll make quite an impression if you show up with something good.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor looked back at him through the corner of his eye and whined, “Do I look like a woman to you? I don’t know how to cook!”</p><p>Evan sighed, “Then go out into the field and hunt something. We’ll all roast it together around the fire. You can use my bow, it’s in the closet.” He nodded towards the closet door beside him. It was slightly ajar, revealing an arsenal of weapons inside.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac retrieved a shortbow and a quiver of bone-tipped arrows, then he and Connor made their exit. They followed a dirt trail that led them through a field of long grass on the outskirts of the village. The tallest blades were nearly as tall as they were, twitching with bird and rodent activity.</p><p> </p><p>            “What do centaurs eat anyway? Hay and apples? Sugar cubes?” asked Connor.</p><p>Isaac almost laughed when he replied, “Sometimes. But if you’re trying to win Elska over, you should bring her a big, bloody haunch of meat. She’d love that!”</p><p> </p><p>            He suddenly stopped in his tracks, crouching low. Connor followed suit and whispered, “See something?”</p><p>“There’s a gobbler just up ahead,” said Isaac, pointing forward. Connor squinted, peering through the blades of grass shifting in the breeze. After a moment, a black eye came into focus and he realized he’d been looking at the broad side of a fat fowl the whole time.</p><p> </p><p>            It was a homely creature, a flightless bird common throughout all of Noalen. Its brown feathers were speckled with flecks of black and beige, blending its body seamlessly with the grass around it.</p><p> </p><p>            It hadn’t noticed them yet. It seemed to be resting, using the grass for shade. Isaac passed the bow to Connor and whispered, “You take the shot. I hate hunting.”</p><p> </p><p>            With a silent nod, Connor accepted the bow and pulled an arrow from the quiver slung around Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac closed his eyes and covered his ears as the Evangelite nocked the arrow. He lined up his shot, took a deep breath, and let it fly.</p><p> </p><p>            The arrow whizzed past the bird and disappeared deep into the field. Startled, the bird flapped away in a flurry of gobbles. “Damn it!” growled Connor, pitching the bow to the ground.</p><p>Isaac quickly picked it back up and inspected it for damage. “Be careful with that! If we break it, Evan’s gonna take it out of my pay,” he warned.</p><p> </p><p>            The two ventured further into the field. It was starting to get dark, but neither of them wanted to return to the village empty-handed. They heard something big rustling in the grass ahead, so they dropped low and crept quietly.</p><p> </p><p>            “Try again,” whispered Isaac, passing the bow back to Connor. They could see the hairy, brown backside of a wild goat peeking through the grass, flicking its stubby tail. Connor lined up his shot. Isaac turned away and covered his ears, but even his fingers couldn’t block out the long, man-like wail that followed.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac’s eyes snapped open. He whirled around and shared a look of bewilderment with Connor, then the two rushed towards their prey. They saw now that it was no goat at all—it was a satyr, and he was writhing on the ground with an arrow lodged in his right buttock.</p><p> </p><p>            “Itchy! Oh, man! I-I’m so sorry, we thought you were…!” Isaac began, trailing off as he inspected the wound.</p><p>The satyr slapped his hands away and wailed, “Don’t touch me! Argh, you little bastard! A satyr can’t even forage in his own village without getting shot by some twitchy ironblood!”</p><p>“I’m really sorry! Please, hold still! Let me look at it!” begged Isaac, reaching for the wound again.</p><p> </p><p>            Reluctantly, Itchy rolled onto his belly and allowed him to tug at the arrow. “It’s just a small-game arrow, and it’s not that deep,” determined Isaac. “I think it’s okay to pull it out.”</p><p>Itchy growled back at him, “Then quit screwin’ around and do it already!”</p><p> </p><p>            He gnashed his crooked teeth, letting out a loud grunt when the arrow was yanked from his backside. The bone tip was stained with blood, but the wound it left was smaller than a man’s fingertip. Isaac tossed the arrow aside and helped Itchy to his hooves. The satyr limped a few paces, squeezing the sore wound tightly.</p><p> </p><p>            “Uuuugh,” he groaned. “You really can’t tell the difference between my ass and a gobbler, huh?”</p><p>Isaac couldn’t help himself. He stifled a snicker when he replied, “They’re both fat and ugly.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Aw, shit in your hand ‘n clap, kid!” barked Itchy, giving him a half-hearted shove. He crouched beside an overturned basket and began scooping its toppled bounty of wild fruits and seeds back inside. As he did, he threw a glance back at Connor and snapped, “Who’s this bulldog-lookin’ twat? I know I ain’t seen that face around here before.”</p><p> </p><p>            “That’s Connor,” Isaac told him. “He’s Evan’s nephew. He’s gonna stay with us for a few months and help rebuild the compound.”</p><p>“Oh, great! Another merc!” the satyr groaned. “And Fatlas’s crotch-fruit, at that!”</p><p>Connor furrowed his brow and corrected him, “I’m his <em>nephew</em>, not his son.”</p><p> </p><p>            Itchy finished filling his basket and stood up. He waved a dismissive hand at the boy and muttered, “Eh, same difference. All you blue boys shag your sisters anyway…”</p><p>Connor’s face flushed red. “Excuse you, fella?” he blurted. He lunged for the satyr, but Isaac was quick to pull him back.</p><p> </p><p>            “Connor, don’t! For Gaia’s sake, you just shot the guy!” Isaac reminded him.</p><p>“Who does he think he is, calling my uncle a sister-fucker? I can’t just let him get away with that!” the Evangelite growled, fists clenched at his sides.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac kept a hold on his sleeve and told him, “This is Itchy, he lives in the Hollow. He has a wife and two kids, and one of the kids is disabled. Please, let it go. He’s gotta get back to his family.”</p><p>“Damn right I do,” said Itchy, already limping back down the trail, “and they ain’t gonna be happy about this half-empty haul! Thanks a lot, ya clowns!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac and Connor watched him disappear deeper into the grass, muttering curses to himself the whole way.</p><p> </p><p>            *</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Loose Lips</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[CHAPTER 2: LOOSE LIPS]</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>            At long last, the sun tipped below the horizon and the summer sky faded from blue to a wash of pink and orange. Connor and Isaac spent hours in the field, only to return to the Hollow with a single snake. A snake that never met an arrow, but that Connor had accidentally stepped on as it crossed their path. Either way, it was something to contribute to the community dinner.</p><p> </p><p>            Mercenaries and villagers alike were gathering at the compound’s plaza, bringing with them makeshift chairs, firewood, and whatever food they had foraged that day. Together they had a feast around the roaring campfire, chatting and laughing and swatting at the mosquitoes that tried to join them.</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac and Connor passed their snake to Glenvar, who pierced its long body on a skewer and placed it on a metal rack over the fire. Forage and other small game roasted beside it. Connor looked around, but he didn’t see Elska anywhere. Probably for the best, he thought. He was too ashamed to present the pathetic little snake to her anyway.</p><p> </p><p>            Meanwhile, another centaur carried a heavy keg of beer around on his shoulder, filling everyone’s steins. He was black of hair, fur, and complexion. Connor raised his stein and it was filled in an instant. He sat on a log with a plate of fresh, steaming food in his lap, and in that moment, the life of a mercenary didn’t seem so bad.</p><p> </p><p>            Still, Connor hardly knew anyone here, and those he had met, he wasn’t on great terms with. He silently sipped his beer and ate his food as he listened to their chatter, watched them meander around and play little games with eachother.</p><p> </p><p>            He found himself mesmerized, awestruck at the sight of commoners eating with fae and gaians. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He watched a human clink glasses with an elf. He saw another human sharing their food with a cecaelia. None of it sat right with him. He started to feel wary about his plate, wondering if any of these magic people would poison his food.</p><p> </p><p>            If he were to cope with all this stress, he was going to need more beer. Connor spotted an elfenne approaching with a pitcher in her hands. Her skin was as white as ivory, her hair just as white and pulled into a tight ponytail. Connor slapped her behind as she passed and said, “Hey, peach! I need another drink over here!”</p><p> </p><p>            The pitcher dropped to the ground, spilling water everywhere. The elfenne whirled around with a loud gasp, looking at Connor like he’d just grown a second head. Connor quickly realized he’d done something wrong, for then every eye at the plaza was fixated on him.</p><p> </p><p>            He cried out as a hulking, bald-headed human seized him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against a tree trunk. “Where do you get off treating a lady like that, you punk?” the man roared. His curly, black beard reached his chest and his brown arms were covered in Matuzan-style tattoos. He was not the type of man Connor could take in a fight.</p><p> </p><p>            The Evangelite raised his palms in defeat and stammered, “Woah, woah, I’m sorry! My mistake, I didn’t realize she was married!”</p><p>“Married? I’m not married!” said the elfenne, curling her lip in disgust.</p><p>Connor snapped back, “Well, you’re walking around without a headscarf on! What else was I supposed to think? Come on, I can’t be blamed for this!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Balthazaar, let him go!” called Evan, approaching from the other side of the camp.</p><p>“He just smacked Linde’s rear and told her to fetch him a drink, like she’s some kind of brothel-maid! Little brat needs a few smacks on the rear himself, if you ask me!” argued Balthazaar.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor shrunk back, bracing for impact. But Evan gently pried the man off of him and explained, “I’m very sorry about that, Ms. Lumina! Everyone, this is my nephew, Connor Galanis. He’s new to the Hollow, as you can plainly see. He came all the way from Greenhearst, and I’m afraid we’re going to have to get passed some cultural differences here.”</p><p> </p><p>            “What kind of culture treats women like <em>that</em>?” snapped Linde.</p><p>“I thought you were a wench, okay? Rake me over the coals, why don’t you?” Connor said to her, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>Evan silenced his nephew with a stern look, then continued, “Please forgive my dear nephew for his mistakes. He’s going to make a lot of them while he adjusts. But he’s also going to help us rebuild our compound, so we all need to do our best to get along and work together. He’s a strong, hard-working kid. Let’s all give him a chance to make us proud, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>            A round of unenthused mumbles spread over the group. Gradually they all returned to their business as Connor turned to his uncle. “Uncle, I swear, I thought she was a servant-wench. Look what she’s wearing! You can almost see her knockers!” he whispered.</p><p>Evan pulled him aside and explained, “I know, son. Trust me, I went through this too when I left the Valley. Here’s a little piece of advice: treat every woman like you treat your mother.”</p><p> </p><p>            He paused, rethinking his advice. “Er, how you <em>should</em> treat your mother…”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor scrubbed his hands against his face. “Everyone already hates me,” he moaned.</p><p>“That’s not true. They don’t even know you yet! Go find Isaac, he’ll vouch for you.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure he hates me too.”</p><p> </p><p>            “That’s not true either,” Evan assured him. He stood on the tips of his toes, scanning the crowd until he spotted his commander. “Hey, look who’s over there! You remember Lukas, don’t you? He was with me the first time I met you. Let’s go speak with him for a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor followed him across the clearing, approaching a tall, brown-skinned man standing apart from everyone else. His ropes of dark hair were hanging loose around his face. He was facing the wilderness with an empty stein in his hand, seemingly watching the sunset.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan cleared his throat and greeted, “Lukas, how are you tonight?”</p><p>Lukas turned to face him, eyes bloodshot and weary. “A little drunk,” he admitted.</p><p> </p><p>            “As you should be. This is a celebration, after all!” said Evan, forcing a little smile. He patted his nephew on the back and continued, “Connor is having some trouble adjusting to the culture around here. You’re a worldly, educated man. Maybe you have some advice for him?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Advice? Aw, Ev, come on. I’m full of beer!” Lukas groaned. But Evan shot a pleading sort of look at him, so he sighed and continued, “Alright. The most important thing is: don’t tell a soul you were in the military, and gods help you if you mention anything about Kelvingyard!”</p><p> </p><p>            A strained smile crossed Evan’s face. He raised his hand and then lowered it, silently asking Lukas to lower his volume. His commander blabbed on, far louder than he should have, “Seriously, most folks ‘round here have a bone to pick with Evangeline in the first place! At least half of us are ex-slaves ‘n refugees! If they find out you were part of that nonsense, oooh boy! They’ll tear you a new hole, kid!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Lukas, let’s mind the volume—” Evan hissed, but Lukas swung his stein around and slurred on,</p><p>“I know what goes on over there in the Valley! You’re telling me you watched your grandmother’s lackey beating those slaves half to death, and you really thought to yourself, ‘gee whiz, that’s the career for me!’? And don’t try to deny it, we have it in writing! The whole reason your parents sent you here is to keep you away from Kelvingyard! What’s wrong with you, boy? No, really, what’s <em>wrong</em> with you?”</p><p> </p><p>            He barely finished his last sentence before Evan began steering his nephew away, laughing nervously, “Okay, Lukas! That’s great advice, thank you!”</p><p> </p><p>            “See? Even your commander hates me! He thinks I’m a monster!” whined Connor.</p><p>“No, no, don’t take any of that personally,” said Evan. “Lukas just had a few too many drinks tonight, that’s all. He can be quite mouthy on a good day. Alcohol never helps his case…”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor filled another plate with food and wandered away from the campsite. He ate by himself in a secluded area off the main road, then made his way back to Evan’s house. Lukas’ words kept repeating over and over in his head. It sounded so awful, when he put that way. But Connor had never considered the feelings of slaves, for the feelings of property were not to be considered. He did not consider the feelings of fae and gaians either, because as far as he knew, they were not people at all, but malicious half-beasts.</p><p> </p><p>            Joining the Kelvingyard Slaving Company was attractive to a wayward youth like Connor. He dreamed of all the weapons he’d get to wield, all the heavy siege equipment he’d get to operate, all the exciting battles he’d fight and the exotic places he’d go. The pain and suffering of the magical folk never crossed his mind. He simply yearned for excitement and adventure.</p><p> </p><p>            A small tent was waiting for him when he arrived, pitched under the cover of the porch. He opened the flap and peeked inside. He found a wolf pelt, several wool blankets, and his two overstuffed bags. He slept inside the tent that night, twitching at every rustle and snapped twig he heard in the wilderness around him. It seemed like he’d just gotten to sleep when he was awoken by Isaac’s shouting.</p><p> </p><p>            “Evaaan! The septic’s full again!” the mercenary called. Connor crawled out of his tent, staggering off the porch barefoot in his cotton pajamas. Morning had already arrived. He saw Isaac standing by a window on the side of the house, next to a covered barrel. The window opened and Evan stuck his head out to speak with him.</p><p> </p><p>            “I emptied it last time,” said Evan. “It’s either your turn or Connor’s. You two figure it out.”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac turned and saw Connor standing a short distance away. “I think Connor should do it,” he said.</p><p>Rubbing at his bloodshot eye, Connor yawned, “Do what?”</p><p>“The septic’s full,” explained Isaac, pointing to the barrel. “Someone has to dump it in the village cesspit.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Ew! <em>That’s</em> how you deal with sewage out here, just chuck it down a hole? What happens when it fills up?” queried Connor, face wrinkled.</p><p>“It never does. Some trolls come by once in a while and haul all the poo away,” said Isaac. “I don’t know what they do with it, but they’re more than welcome to have it…”</p><p>“That’s disgusting! No way am I touching that thing!” Connor refused, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.</p><p> </p><p>            “Connor,” began Evan, “if you’re going to live under my roof, then you must contribute to the household chores as well.”</p><p>“But I don’t live under your roof! I live in a tent, apparently!” his nephew argued.</p><p>Evan wasn’t having it. He fished a gold coin from his pocket and said, “Let’s let the almighty coin decide. Crowns or dragons?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Dragons!” Isaac decided quickly.</p><p>Connor sighed, “Crowns, then…”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan flicked the coin into the air and caught it in the same hand, then opened his palm to present it. A worn image of a dragon faced the sky.</p><p> </p><p>            “Yes!” Isaac cheered and ran off in a fit of victorious laughter.</p><p>“Looks like it’s your turn, son,” Evan told Connor with an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, he won’t be laughing next time. Besides, this is a great way to show off your work ethic to the guys! Grab that wheelbarrow over there, and don’t forget the shovel.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor let out a long, dramatic groan and slipped on his shoes. He then trudged over to the wheelbarrow leaning against the house. He cursed and strained to lift the barrel into it, tossed the shovel in too, and then began wheeling everything down the main road towards the market.</p><p> </p><p>            He was still so tired. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and he hadn’t even eaten yet. Morning birdsong was just starting to ring through the charred trees. In his groggy haze, Connor never noticed the dip in the path. The wheelbarrow’s wheel sunk down and the whole thing tipped to the side. There was too much momentum behind its weight to save it. Connor struggled, but there was nothing he could do as the barrel tipped over the side and broke open, spilling a load of sludge across the road.</p><p> </p><p>            The Evangelite roared with anger. He picked up the shovel and began beating the side of the metal wheelbarrow with it, making a ruckus that scared the birds from the grass. He only stopped when he heard someone laughing and whipped his face in their direction.</p><p> </p><p>            A tall satyr with big, spiraling horns was walking down the road, pointing and cackling at his misfortune. He had long, dirty-blonde hair and his beer-belly bulged below a muscular chest. “What’s the matter, Blue? Lose yer load?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Fuck you, fella! It’s not funny!” growled Connor.</p><p>The satyr gestured to the toppled barrel and laughed, “It’s funny when it ain’t <em>my</em> mess! I can tell ya city-boys never worked a day in yer life, ‘cause ya all got smooth, slippery lady-fingers!” He wiggled his own fingers before him, showing off his many scrapes and calluses.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s face flushed red-hot. “I’ll show you slippery!” he shouted, then quick as a flash, he scooped a shovelful of the sludge and flung it at the satyr. It was a direct hit. The goop splattered his target from his chin to his belly, and an instant later, the satyr was charging at him like an angry bull.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor stood no chance. Not even the shovel could save him, for he was tackled to the ground before he even got a chance to swing it in self-defense. It fell from his grip as he hit the dirt with a grunt. He squirmed and struggled with all his might, but the satyr was somehow much heavier and stronger than he looked, as if his body were made of iron.</p><p> </p><p>            The satyr pinned him down with his furry knee on his back and snarled, “What on Gaia’s wrong with ya, kid? A man chuckles at yer silly blunder, and ya fling shite at him like he slapped yer ma?”</p><p> </p><p>            He tangled his fingers in Connor’s hair and rubbed his nose in the sludge. “If ya wanna act like an animal, fine! Then I’m gonna train ya like an animal! See if ya ever disrespect me like that again, ya little shite-nosed bastard!”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor screamed and flailed until finally, the satyr pulled him up by his hair, only to shove him into the grass on the opposite side of the road. Connor fell on his backside, smeared with muck from his face to his torso much like his foe. Brogan swiped the sludge from his own face and flung it at Connor as one last, petty statement, then stormed off down the road.</p><p> </p><p>            “Yer uncle will be hearin’ about this!” he shouted.</p><p>“No! Wait!” called Connor, scrambling to his feet. He chased the satyr back to Evan’s house, which wasn’t all that far away, and watched helplessly as he banged on the front door.</p><p> </p><p>            “Captain Atlas! Open up! We got a situation with yer sister’s sprog!” he hollered. The door swung open. Evan stood behind it, eyes rounding wide when he saw the two filthy people before him.</p><p>“Brogan, my god! Ugh, what happened here?” He asked, face scrunching at the stench of them.</p><p> </p><p>            Thrusting an accusatory finger towards Connor, Brogan told him, “This little brat lost his temper and shoveled shite right at my face! Ya know how many diseases I probably got now? I ought to tie him to a stone ‘n toss his arse in the lake, but I’m gonna do right by my sweet Gwynny and toss ‘im to you instead! Make sure he knows his place in this village, Cap’n! I won’t go so easy on ‘im next time, trust that!”</p><p> </p><p>            With that, Brogan whirled around and stormed off, shoving Connor as he passed. Evan furrowed his brow and shifted his gaze to his nephew. “Why are you throwing waste at people? That’s assault, Connor! That’s serious!” he said sharply.</p><p> </p><p>            “It wasn’t my fault! He made me do it!” Connor argued. “I dropped the septic barrel and that fella laughed at me! He was making fun of me, Uncle! You expect me to just stand there and take guff from some dirty goat-fucker?”</p><p>Evan raised his voice and told him, “I <em>expect</em> you to be mature and conduct yourself like an adult! If you crack under a little teasing, you’ll crumble to dust under the weight of battle!”</p><p> </p><p>            He shook his head in disapproval, lowering his volume as he continued, “Your superiors made a wise choice. You’re not soldier material. But you <em>can</em> be, assuming you get that temper of yours under control. I know you’ve got the muscle; you’re built like an Atlas and you can surely throw down like an Atlas. The thing about us Atlas men, though, is that we’re pig-headed and we have to learn everything the hard way.”</p><p> </p><p>            He gestured to his nephew, all splattered with filth. “I see you learned a lesson the hard way today. May you think twice the next time you feel like blowing up over some petty slight. Your Grandpapa Foster was the very same way, you know, and it never worked out for him.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor rolled his eyes so hard, his head rolled with them. Pointing down the road, Evan told him, “Now, go to the river and wash up. We’ll be leaving for Woodborne at high sun.”</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p><p>            With a fresh change of clothes and a bar of soap in hand, Connor made his way to the river. He had never washed in the wilderness before, only in bathtubs and the barracks showers. The whole notion seemed primitive and barbaric to him, but filthy as he was, he could hardly complain.</p><p> </p><p>            He heard women chattering as he approached the water. Curious, he slowed down and began to cut through the tall grass. Peering through the brush, his jaw dropped at the sight ahead. A large group of women, mercenaries and villagers alike, were all bathing together. Connor’s eyes darted around. He didn’t see a single man anywhere aside from himself.</p><p> </p><p>            The ladies didn’t notice him. Connor knew it was impolite to stare, yet he couldn’t pry his eyes away. Modesty was expected of both sexes in his kingdom, but especially of women. No Evangelite woman would be caught dead frolicking naked in the open, even around other women. Connor had only ever seen nudity in dirty pictures, never in the flesh like this.</p><p> </p><p>            Perhaps he would stay a while and enjoy the view, he thought. He didn’t have to be back until high sun. What was the rush?</p><p> </p><p>            Alaine’s blue hair was hard to miss. He spotted her sitting on a rock, scrubbing her scaly legs as she chatted with a red-headed satyress. She began to wash her hair, and when she dunked her head in the water, a white light consumed her. Connor’s brows nearly shot off his face. In an instant, she had transformed into a green, scaly creature! Her legs fused into a fish-like tail, and webs stretched between her fingers much like Mr. Ocean’s.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor had read about mermaids once or twice, but he’d never met one before Alaine, and he certainly hadn’t seen one transform until now. Mermaids weren’t exactly common in Evangelite society, especially as far inland as Greenhearst.</p><p> </p><p>            Not far from Alaine, he spotted Linde the ivory-white elfenne. She washed close to shore under the shade of an umbrella. He wondered if she was secretly a vampire, for he’d never seen anyone as pale as she.</p><p> </p><p>            He jumped at the sound of distant hoofsteps. Two female centaurs were making their way to the river. He ducked down further into the grass and prayed they wouldn’t see him. They passed right by, their hooves splashing noisily into the water. He recognized Elska, but he did not recognize her colossal friend. She was the biggest centaur Connor had ever seen, clearly quite a bit older than Elska with gray streaks in her chin-length black hair.</p><p> </p><p>            She and Elska tossed their tops on the shore and began to bathe with the rest, seamlessly joining the conversation. The women discussed food, relationships, weather, and other banal subjects Connor didn’t care to focus on. He looked at them, but he did not listen until he heard his name come from Alaine’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>            “Elska, Philippa, I missed you at dinner last night! Did you get a chance to meet Connor yet?” she asked.</p><p>Elska boomed, “I saw him for a short moment. That was long enough for me.”</p><p> </p><p>            The other centauress, Philippa, sounded anxious when she added, “I think I saw him running around with Isaac, but I just don’t have the guts to introduce myself. Maybe it’s best if I stay away from him until he goes back home.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor leaned in closer, intrigued. Linde said, “There’s no harm in saying ‘hi’. You’ll just attract more attention to yourself if you go out of your way to ignore him.”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s gonna be here for a while, Big Philly,” added Alaine. “You might as well get comfy with him. You don’t have to tell him about the Kelvingyard thing. Just act natural! Take advantage of the extra hands, let him do some chores for you!”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s blood ran cold. What ‘Kelvingyard thing’? What were they talking about? Did they know about his secret?</p><p> </p><p>            Philippa turned her gaze down, looking solemnly at the water. She said, “I just don’t know how to feel anymore. I heard news of those liberators wreaking havoc all over the blue kingdom and I jumped for joy like a child! I prayed for them and sang songs in their honor! I never considered the captain might have loved ones over there. When I heard that his mother got caught up in this, I felt just terrible!”</p><p> </p><p>            She paused to splash water on her tattooed face. Then she turned to the other women and asked, “Do you think it’s dishonorable of me to celebrate such a thing?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Not at all!” barked Elska. “There is no justice without sacrifice! That wretched slave yard had to fall! By our hands or the hands of another, it matters not. We did what we must in the name of freedom and righteousness. If there are casualties, so be it. The Evangelites only have themselves to blame.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor couldn’t believe his ears. Were they saying what he thought they were saying?</p><p> </p><p>            Linde chimed in, “I’m inclined to agree. Of course, I would <em>never</em> tell Connor you guys brought down Kelvingyard. Never! But let’s just say I don’t feel all that bad about the fallout either. I mean, you can’t treat people like animals and then act surprised when they turn on you.”</p><p> </p><p>            Alaine said, “I love Evan, don’t get me wrong. I’d take an arrow for the guy. But even he knows his people are backwards! This whole Kelvingyard business was a volcano waiting to blow.” She tipped her head towards the centaurs. “Like Elska said, if you two didn’t light the fuse, someone else would have. Getting that kid out of blue country was the best thing Evan could’ve done for him. The last thing Looming Gaia needs is one more slaver…”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor’s ears were burning. His stomach twisted, hands trembling against the dirt. So, he wasn’t the only one burdened with secrets. It seemed the Freelance Good Guys were the ones responsible for the fall of Kelvingyard. The very event that threw Connor’s kingdom into chaos, the one that brought danger and hardship to his family! And to think his own uncle was keeping this from him!</p><p> </p><p>            Now that he had this devastating information, Connor had no idea what to do with it. Should he tell his uncle? Should he tell his mother or the Evangeline Guard? One secret was heavy enough, and now he had two of them weighing heavy on his shoulders. He felt as if he might collapse!</p><p> </p><p>            He was so lost in his thoughts, he never noticed the nymph sneaking up on him. Not until she delivered a slap to the back of his head. He whirled around and fell on his back, shielding his face. A beautiful limniad glowered down at him, green hands planted firmly on her hips. White daisies grew around her head like a crown, and even more were peppered into her long, pink hair. “What do you think you’re doing?” she scolded.</p><p> </p><p>            “I-I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—” Connor stammered, but she wasn’t interested in anything he had to say.</p><p>She pointed him towards the road and growled, “If you weren’t the captain’s nephew, I’d choke you with a bramble! Quit peeping and go wash with the menfolk, you little pervert!”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor shot her a single nod and slinked away through the grass. He stepped back onto the road and followed the river downstream. He heard loud, masculine laughter in the distance. Around the bend, he finally saw the source.</p><p> </p><p>            At least a dozen naked men were frolicking in the river, bathing and splashing and wrestling eachother. Their chaotic energy was quite different from the soft, serene energy of the women upstream. The men of the village were as rowdy as animals, and in Connor’s eyes, some of them were indeed half-beast.</p><p> </p><p>            He spotted peoples of all kinds—humans bathing alongside centaurs and satyrs and elves. Even the smallest of them looked gruffer and tougher than he, marked with a lifetime of scars, calluses, and tattoos. Connor looked down at himself. He was used to being the biggest, toughest boy in his schoolhouse. Looking upon the scarred, muscular bodies of these wild folk, he felt as smooth and doughy as an underdone biscuit.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor cautiously moved towards the shore. He recognized at least some of the faces before him. It wasn’t long before he was spotted, and Balthazaar waved him over with a piercing whistle. “Hey, blue boy! C’mere!” the man called. His mighty voice boomed across the river.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor reluctantly approached him, pulling off his soiled pajama shirt along the way. He tossed it on the ground and set his soap on the flat surface of a boulder. Standing belly-deep in the water, Balthazaar looked him up and down and laughed, “Damn, kid, what happened to you? Did you fall in the cesspit or what?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor said nothing, only growled under his breath and kneeled by the shore. He began scrubbing the filth off his face. Balthazaar waded closer to him and said, “Listen. I’m sorry I almost pummeled you yesterday. I’ve been through a lot lately with the fire and all. Been drinking too much, been working too hard, I just lost my wife, and…well, I’m not trying to make excuses. I just want you to know, any friend of Evan’s is a friend of mine…”</p><p> </p><p>            The Evangelite stopped scrubbing and shook the water off his face. He looked up and immediately regretted it when he saw the giant, naked man standing right in front of him. His face flushed pink, eyes darting around at the others. They were casually chatting with eachother with all their bits out in the open, and somehow they expected him to act natural about it.</p><p> </p><p>            Balthazaar sat down beside him on the shore, nonplussed as he picked up a rough stone and began scraping the bottom of his foot with it. He continued without missing a beat, “…Anyway, the captain offered me and the Steel Knuckle guys a contract later this week. I told him you’re welcome to join us, if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>            At this, Connor turned to face him. “A contract? Like, mercenary work?”</p><p>Balthazaar chuckled, “Heh, if you can call it that. The job sounds like a bore. I figured it’d be easy points for you. Just to dip your toes in the water, get a feel for how we operate.”</p><p>“Er, yeah! Of course I’ll join you! What’s the job?” Connor beamed.</p><p> </p><p>            “I don’t know, some farm work or something.” Balthazaar shrugged. “The contract was too long; didn’t read it. I let Linde take a look at it and she said it was easy money, like catching fish in a barrel. We just need to make sure you have a proper suit of armor on you before we go.”</p><p>“Uncle said he’s going to get me fitted for armor today.”</p><p>“Ah, great! I’ll let the Squad know you’re on board then.”</p><p> </p><p>            The mercenary finished scraping his feet and swiped his towel off a rock, warmed by the sun. As he dried off, he said, “I want to give you a proper introduction to my guys. See, Evan leads the Good Guys, but I got a little crew of my own. A crew-within-a-crew, if you will.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted towards the river, “Skel! Javaan! Get over here!”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor watched as a familiar black centaur galloped through the water to the shore. Connor and Balthazaar both shielded their eyes from the spray when he shook his equine body, flinging water all around him.</p><p> </p><p>            Shortly after, a grumbling, green goblin trudged out of the river. He swiped a towel off the ground on his way, wrapping it around his waist as he stood before Connor. Balthazaar swept a hand towards the Evangelite and said, “The kid’s gonna join us on the farm job this week, so I thought we should all get properly introduced.” He moved his hand towards the goblin. “Connor, this here is Skel. He’s a fancy tele…telekeeno…uh…”</p><p> </p><p>            “<em>Telekineticist</em>,” the goblin said flatly. Connor looked confused, so he added, “It means I can move things with my mind. Like this.” He pressed a finger to his temple and rippled the air with a telekinetic pulse. Balthazaar’s towel suddenly dropped to the ground. Javaan and Skel burst out into laughter while the man scrambled to pull it back up.</p><p> </p><p>            “Yeah, real mature, Skel. I’m tryin’ to make a good impression here!” grumbled Balthazaar. He tossed a hand towards Javaan and said, “His name’s Javaan. He’s the donkey that carts us all over Gaia.”</p><p>Javaan rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Pff, <em>donkey</em>. Show me a donkey that can dual-wield and I’ll swallow my swords!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Nice to meet you guys,” said Connor, extending his hand. Javaan readily shook it, but Skel hesitated, face scrunching up in disgust.</p><p>Balthazaar nudged the goblin and urged him, “Shake his hand, Skel! Don’t be rude!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Balthazaar, he smells like…” Skel began, trailing off with uncertainty. His long nose twitched as he sniffed the air. “Boy, what is that mess all over your pants?”</p><p>Connor looked down at his soiled pajama bottoms. As much as he wanted to say “mud”, there was no denying the obvious.</p><p> </p><p>            He answered, “Uh, yeah, it’s…exactly what you think it is.” He paused, then quickly added, “But it’s not mine!” as if that made his answer any better.</p><p> </p><p>            Skel pressed his hands together and regarded Balthazaar with a sardonic little smile. “You sure know how to pick a winner, Ballyhoo. I’ll see you all next week.”</p><p> </p><p>            With that, he snatched his clothes off a branch and walked off. Connor cringed at his own awkwardness and had no idea how to salvage the conversation. Luckily, Javaan stepped in and did it for him. He said, “Eh, you know what they say: shit happens. Clean yourself up and meet me by the plaza when you’re done. I’ll show you how to ride a centaur and chop bad guys at the same time.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Really? Uh, great! Thanks!” exclaimed Connor. Javaan plodded away after Skel. Once he disappeared, Connor turned to Balthazaar and whispered, “Do people actually ride centaurs or is he just messing with me?”</p><p>The man’s round belly jiggled when he laughed, “I told you, the man’s a glorified donkey! Yes, you can ride on his back. Just don’t try that with any other centaur. Most of ‘em don’t take kindly to that sort of thing.”</p><p> </p><p>            Eventually Balthazaar left the riverside. Connor looked around for scrutiny before taking off his pants and quickly stepping into the water. It was cold enough to make him shiver, and the slimy mud squishing between his toes made him want to jump right back out again. This was a far cry from the warm, indoor baths he was used to. He shuddered to think about doing this when the warm season ended. How could people possibly live this way?</p><p> </p><p>            Connor made quick work of his bath and dressed in his clean clothes. He picked up his soiled pajamas with a stick and carried them with him down the road to the plaza. He heard the giggling of the bathing women as he passed, and he considered sneaking a second peek. What was the harm? He didn’t see any nymphs around, so he crept into the brush again and peered through the long grass.</p><p> </p><p>            His jaw nearly hit the ground. Bathing among the women was none other than his Uncle Evan! He chatted with them as they washed, even helped them scrub their backs, and not a single one of them regarded him differently than they regarded eachother. What had he done to earn such a privilege?</p><p> </p><p>            “Way to go, Uncle!” Connor snickered to himself. Evan must have been a master seducer! A real ladies’ man, he thought. Perhaps his charms ran in the family, and someday Connor would grow into them too.</p><p> </p><p>            “Didn’t I tell you to get lost?” a voice snapped from behind him. Connor whirled around and saw the daisy-haired nymph again. He scrambled away as she beat him over the head with a thorny stick, growling, “Get out! Shoo, shoo! If I catch you here one more time, I’ll poke your naughty eyes out!”</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p><p>            Another day passed in Drifter’s Hollow. Connor woke up early and proudly donned his new steel-plated armor. Evan told him to suit up and meet him at the training grounds for group combat lessons, and he eagerly obliged.</p><p> </p><p>            The training grounds weren’t very impressive. It was simply a large, round pit dug into the ground, about as deep as Connor was tall. The rest of the Freelance Good Guys were gathered there, suited up in their armor just as he was. They stood around the edges of the pit as Evan circled around them and explained, “Once a week, we have what we call a ‘pit-tourney’. This is a friendly competition where we test our combat skills against eachother. The objective is simple: first one’s back to hit the ground loses. Now, we have some ground rules, and it’s very important that we follow them to keep eachother safe.”</p><p> </p><p>            He began listing them on his fingers as he continued, “One: no hitting below the belt or above the chest. Two: hazard spells must stay confined to the pit. And three: don’t be a sore loser. Everyone ready?”</p><p> </p><p>            The air swelled with the mercenaries’ voices, raising their fists. “Connor,” began Evan, “I’ll let you go first, just to see where your skills are at. I’m going to match you with…” He scratched at his chin, scanning around at his crew. He decided, “…Isaac, since you two are about the same age. Go easy on him, Isaac!”</p><p> </p><p>            “No mercy for the weak,” Isaac jested, jumping down into the pit. Connor jumped down after him, stumbling onto his knee when he landed. They were both armed with nothing but their own hands, wrapped in leather strips to protect their knuckles.</p><p> </p><p>            After the two stood on their marks, Evan called, “Ready…get set…throw down!”</p><p> </p><p>            The crowd of mercenaries erupted into cheers. Connor didn’t even know where to begin. Isaac was charging at him fast, so he simply braced himself and prayed for the best. He didn’t even make it past Evangeline boot camp, much less into fighting lessons!</p><p> </p><p>            But he did have one advantage over Isaac, and that was his size. He dug his heels into the dirt just before Isaac rammed into his midsection. Connor reeled back several paces, but managed to stay upright. He pushed back with a mighty roar, sending Isaac stumbling backwards. The young mercenary staggered, briefly catching himself with his hand to keep his back from hitting the ground, and sprang upright again.</p><p> </p><p>            Suddenly Connor knew just what to do. He used to shove whelps like Isaac into lockers every day at school, dunk their heads in the toilets, and hold them upside-down until they cried for mercy. So what was stopping him now?</p><p> </p><p>            This time he charged first, barreling towards his opponent with his forearms guarding his face. Isaac raised his arms to guard himself too, but Connor overpowered him and easily broke his shield. He shoved Isaac’s hands apart, whirled him around and trapped him in a tight headlock. No one had ever broken his infamous Atlas Headlock before! He just squeezed harder and harder until his victims dropped their lunch money.</p><p> </p><p>            But Isaac was no ordinary whelp, it seemed, for he did not scream or panic. Rather, he hooked his leg around Connor’s and twisted him in such a way that flipped the Evangelite right onto his back. Connor hit the ground with a wheeze, stars dancing before his eyes. When the spots faded, he saw Isaac looking down at him with a big grin.</p><p> </p><p>            But how was that possible? It happened so fast, Connor still wasn’t sure how he’d broken the headlock or even how he ended up on his back in the first place. The crowd exploded into booming cheers, praising Isaac for his swift victory. So swift that it made Connor’s face flush red with embarrassment. He barely lasted ten seconds! And he lost to a whelp!</p><p> </p><p>            “Good game,” said Isaac, offering his hand.</p><p>Connor refused it and growled, “That was bullshit! You cheated! I want a rematch!”</p><p>“I didn’t cheat!” snapped Isaac.</p><p> </p><p>            Above them, Evan said, “This is Connor’s very first match, so let’s give him one more chance, shall we? Best two out of three! On your marks!”</p><p> </p><p>            The two rushed back to their marks on opposite ends of the pit. Evan called, “Ready…get set…throw down!” and this time, Connor was the first to charge, fueled by fury and determination.</p><p> </p><p>            Apparently passion wasn’t enough to see him through, for Isaac swiftly juked his tackle, then delivered a spinning kick to his back. Connor stumbled and fell forward, catching himself on his hands and knees. Before he could even rise, Isaac pounced on him like a cat on a mouse. The mercenary kicked him onto his side, then rolled him over and pinned him on his back all in one seamless motion.</p><p> </p><p>            The whole round was even shorter than the first. The mercenaries roared with cheers and laughter, which only made Connor’s fury burn hotter. Isaac sprang back to his feet and offered his hand again. Connor refused it a second time, slapping it away. He threw down his helmet, stormed up the wooden ramp out of the pit, roughly shoving past the mercenaries in his path.</p><p> </p><p>            They watched him stomp away aimlessly down the road. All but Evan, who was quick to chase after him and block his path. He pulled his nephew aside and said, “Hey, hey, what did I say about being a sore loser?”</p><p>“I didn’t lose!” insisted Connor, pointing back at the pit. “<em>He</em> cheated! There’s no way that skinny little fella took me down fair and square!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Son, Isaac has eight years of combat training behind him,” Evan explained flatly. “What do you have? A few months in boot camp? Of course he bested you! The point of this exercise wasn’t to see you win, it was to see how you handle losing.” He paused, wrinkling his brow. “And so far, I’m not impressed with what I’m seeing. I want you to get back there and shake your opponent’s hand. Show the crew you can accept failure like an adult. Go on!”</p><p> </p><p>            He nudged Connor back, steering him towards the pit. Connor let out a gruff sigh and begrudgingly did as he was told. As he approached the group, he saw Isaac facing him with his steel helmet in his hands. He held it out to Connor, almost like a peace offering. The Evangelite boy accepted it and slipped it back on his head, then he reached one reluctant hand forward.</p><p> </p><p>            “You won. Good game,” he grumbled. Isaac shook his hand with a wide, reserved smile.</p><p>Evan patted his nephew’s helmed head and announced, “Well done, boys! Get yourselves some water and take a rest. This next match will be a test of magical ability! Paramonimos and Ms. Lumina, on your marks!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac took a swig from his canteen and passed it to Connor. Connor accepted a small drink, if only to earn points with the crew, and passed it back while Jeimos and Linde stepped into the pit. The elves were clad in lightweight armored robes, fortified with leather plates upon their chests and shoulders. Jeimos’ robes were black and orange, Linde’s in blue and white.</p><p> </p><p>            Their armor contrasted eachother as much as their powers. When Evan gave the signal, they held their ground and blasted beams of magic at eachother from their fingertips. Connor watched in awe, the spells’ light reflecting in his wide, blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>            Concentrated flames crackled around Jeimos’ hands. Linde countered the flames with a beam of sparkling frost. The pit filled with mist as the spells clashed, flame melting ice and water extinguishing flame. It seemed their elements were evenly matched. The elves gnashed their teeth and strained with arcane exertion, yet neither of them could overpower the other.</p><p> </p><p>            The mercenaries cheered them on, some rooting for Linde and others for Jeimos. After a while, Linde’s white beam slowly grew longer. With every inch it took, Jeimos’ flames shrank back. The crimson-haired elf would be hit by a blast of frost if they didn’t do something drastic, and in his head, Connor had already called the match in Linde’s favor.</p><p> </p><p>            Jeimos suddenly disappeared in a flash of light. Linde stumbled forward as her beam rocketed forth and blasted the side of the pit, leaving a patch of ice behind. Jeimos reappeared behind her and gave her a shove. The crowd’s volume exploded as Linde reeled to the side and nearly fell on her back. She caught herself with her hand and sprang back up, slinging a blast of frost at Jeimos’ feet.</p><p> </p><p>            Jeimos flailed, almost losing their balance when they tried to move. Their boots were frozen to the ground. Linde charged at them until their entire body burst into roaring flames, and she jumped back to avoid it. Connor was so enthralled by the match, he refused to blink even as the heat of the fire dried out his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>            Linde shot them with frost, trying to extinguish their flames. But in a matter of seconds, the flames had melted the ice that froze Jeimos to the ground, and they began a slow, menacing march towards Linde. Arcane fatigue was claiming Linde a lot faster than it was claiming Jeimos. The strain was clearly visible on her face, the panic obvious in her pink eyes as she backed away from the being of fire approaching her. Her spells were growing weaker, doing little to cool their fire.</p><p> </p><p>            At that point, Connor’s opinion flipped completely. He was sure Jeimos had this match in the bag. Then, Linde let out a shout as she poured the last of her efforts into one last spell. A ring of mist pulsed out around her, leaving a layer of frost in its wake. Connor recoiled from the cold blast, like a gust of wind in winter. The pit was coated with glittering ice in an instant.</p><p> </p><p>            This did not bode well for Jeimos. Just as soon, their intimidating march towards Linde came to an end when they slipped on the ice, falling on their behind with an undignified wail. Linde skated across the ice and kicked them as she passed. This final blow knocked them right onto their back.</p><p> </p><p>            The crew went wild with noise. Linde skated a full circle around the pit, stopped with a graceful pirouette and took a bow. Carefully rising to their feet, Jeimos sent a pulse of heat over the ground and quickly melted the ice. A thick cloud of mist billowed up, leaving the dirt as bone-dry as it was before the match. The elven opponents were all smiles and laughter when they shook hands.</p><p> </p><p>            “Nicely done, Ms. Lumina! You become craftier by the week!” Jeimos praised her.</p><p>Linde blushed, flopping a wrist at them when she replied, “Oh, stop! I just got lucky this time, that’s all!”</p><p> </p><p>            Evangelite soldiers had plenty of stories about magic to tell. They spoke of lightning and illusions being weaponized on the battlefield, but hearing about it and seeing it were two very different experiences. Connor had never seen magic in action until now. It was as dazzling as it was terrifying. He was utterly enchanted, admired the power and even envied it. At the same time, the reality of it all was twisting his belly into knots.</p><p> </p><p>            <em>This</em> was the kind of power his countrymen were up against. <em>This</em> was what ransacked his grandmother’s farm while she slept. <em>This</em> was what he would be face-to-face with if he stayed in the military, or if he had become a slaver.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor felt smaller than ever. Evangeline Kingdom was <em>doomed</em>, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>            “Great match, you two! You both demonstrated solid tactics and a creative use of counters! That’s what I like to see!” said Evan. As the elves left the pit, he turned back to his crew and decided, “Let’s have a heavyweight brawl next. Javaan and Elska, you’re up!”</p><p> </p><p>            Elska slowly plodded down the ramp as Javaan made a show of jumping into the pit, rearing up and spinning around to bask in the cheers of his crew. Then they both took their marks, staring eachother down with very different expressions. Javaan wore a cocky smile, while Elska’s face had been stuck in a flat scowl since the first time Connor saw her. It was as if the only emotion she had was a dull, simmering anger.</p><p> </p><p>            “Read to lose, Ellie?” taunted Javaan, cracking his knuckles high above his head.</p><p>“My name is Elska,” she told him, tone dull as ever.</p><p>Unaffected, Javaan grinned and said, “Your name will be Pancake after I flatten your ass! Let me at ‘er, Captain!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Ready…get set…throw down!” called Evan, and the centaurs charged eachother at once. They clashed together in a strange sort of hug, grappling eachother’s humanoid torsos while their equine bodies danced. Dirt and dust flew every which way, kicked up by their stomping hooves.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor chewed his knuckles as he watched the brawl. Elska had quite a bit of weight on Javaan, but she was only a woman, he reasoned. Surely Javaan would come out on top. Yesterday he had ridden in Javaan’s saddle and practiced hitting targets on centaur-back. Javaan was strong and clever, and certainly faster than any horse Connor had ridden.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan offered Connor some advice as well. He said, “There’s no such thing as fighting dirty. There’s only winning and losing.” It seemed he took his own words to heart, as he hooked his front leg around Elska’s, trying to trip her.</p><p> </p><p>            She crumpled to her front knee and retaliated by heaving him to the side with a roar. Javaan went rolling onto his right side, legs flailing. But his back did not touch the dirt, and he was up in an instant, twisting out of Elska’s hold on his torso.</p><p> </p><p>            Finally separated, they raised their fists and circled eachother, mercenaries shouting around them. Then, Javaan did the unexpected and turned his back to her. He began running circles around the pit, kicking up a cloud of brown dust. Elska lunged for him, but she was too slow to catch him. He evaded her grasp three times as the pit filled with dust, obscuring her view more and more.</p><p> </p><p>            Even their audience could barely see them from above. Elska coughed and squinted, eyes watering. She blinked through the blur and whirled all around. Javaan’s dark pigment didn’t make him any easier to see in the haze. She could hear his thundering hooves though, and when the sound grew close enough, she threw her body towards it.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan crashed directly into her. They both staggered, but neither fell. Instead, they reared up and began swinging at eachother with all their frontmost limbs. Fists flew and front legs cycled in a flurry of kicks. They pummeled eachother for a long moment until the dust began to clear, and then Elska broke away from the brawl to spin around.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan never saw what hit him when her back hoof collided with his head. A deafening crack made the crew cry out with concern. They watched Javaan drop like a stone, arms and legs stretched out rigid before him. He lie seizing on the ground, evacuated his bowels, and then his whole body went limp. In that moment, Connor was certain he had died.</p><p> </p><p>            “No!” he cried out helplessly, tangling his fingers in his hair.</p><p>Evan waved his arms and shouted, “Time out, time out! Isaac, fetch Dr. Che, quickly!”</p><p> </p><p>            Isaac sprinted off without question as the others flooded into the pit, surrounding Javaan. Connor remained frozen on its edge, watching from above as they tried to rouse the fallen centaur. They called his name, shook him and patted his face to no effect. Alaine uncapped her canteen and poured cold water over his head. Only then did they get a reaction. Javaan suddenly sprang back to life, eyes refocusing.</p><p> </p><p>            In a matter of seconds he was staggering back to his hooves, rubbing his aching jaw. Blood streamed from Javaan’s nose and mouth. Even more blood, urine, manure, and a couple teeth were left behind on the ground. Connor felt like he’d just witnessed a miracle. Even the toughest human could never bounce back from a devastating hit like that, but apparently centaurs were made of tougher stuff.</p><p> </p><p>            “Elska! You’re in violation of rule one, missy!” scolded Evan, as if he were scolding a child for stealing a cookie.</p><p>Standing off to the side, Elska simply grumbled back, “He called me ‘Pancake’.”</p><p>“That’s no excuse! You can’t bang up your own crewmates just because you feel slighted. You know better!” Evan told her. He pointed her out of the pit and continued, “I’m placing you on suspension for one week. You’ve been doing a good job keeping your impulses in check, but you still have a ways to go yet. I want you to use this week to work on that, understand?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor thought he saw the slightest change in Elska’s face. The lines of her scowl seemed to lighten a little, perhaps in a flash of remorse. There was still no change in her tone when she answered, “I apologize, Captain. I…I did not mean to be rash. Javaan angered me. I forgot the rules.”</p><p>“Well, don’t apologize to me. Apologize to him!” said Evan, throwing a hand towards the other centaur.</p><p> </p><p>            Elska hesitated, obviously reluctant. Still, she forced herself to approach Javaan and humbly tipped her head, long, golden braid dangling low. “I apologize for breaking your face, Mr. Javaan,” she mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan was still a bit disoriented from the blow. He wobbled slightly when he reached out to shake her hand, accepting her apology. “It’s okay,” he slurred. “I shouldn’t have gloated so much. Sorry about that.”</p><p> </p><p>            “That was the hardest loss I’ve ever seen you take! She literally beat the crap out of you!” chuckled Balthazaar, pointing to the mess behind him.</p><p>Javaan turned around, and the surprised look on his face made it clear he remembered nothing between the time Elska’s hoof struck him and Alaine’s water woke him. “Uh oh! Uh, that seems really bad! Captain, am I going to die?”</p><p> </p><p>            He turned to Evan with panic in his eyes, one pupil notably larger than the other. Clearing his throat, Evan told him, “Er, we’ll let Dr. Che determine that for sure. But in my unprofessional opinion, no, you’re not going to die.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Oh. Okay. That’s good,” mumbled Javaan. He wobbled a couple steps to the side, wiping the blood off his jaw as he continued, “Well, this is embarrassing. Why are you all still here? Quit looking at me! Balthazaar, stop laughing!”</p><p> </p><p>            Balthazaar only clutched his round belly and laughed harder. Try as they might to resist, the rest of the crew couldn’t help but join him. Connor was the lone exception, looking upon the centaur with pity. He too suffered a humiliating defeat just a moment ago, and just watching Javaan nearly made him relive it all over again.</p><p> </p><p>            He cupped his hands around his mouth and called into the pit, “Hey, Javaan! You’ll be alright, fella! You know what they say: shit happens!”</p><p> </p><p>            The centaur paused, furrowing his brow. Then he burst out into sudden, hearty laughter. “Ha! I <em>love</em> this kid! Captain, give him a promotion!”</p><p>“He’s not part of the crew, Javaan,” Evan reminded him.</p><p>Javaan insisted, “Hire him on! Give him Balthazaar’s job!”</p><p> </p><p>            The crew was joking and laughing so much by the time Dr. Che arrived, the doctor wondered what they had even called him for. Still he examined Javaan’s wounds as Evan announced an end to the tourney. “I think we should call it here, guys,” he said. “Keep practicing your moves and we’ll pick this up again next week! Now, who’s turn is it to sweep the pit?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor was all smiles until he noticed Elska glaring at him from the end of the clearing. He met her eyes, blue to blue for just a brief moment. She regarded him with a snort, spit in the dirt, and walked away. He froze. Was that some kind of threat? Seeing how she behaved in the tourney wasn’t helping him feel any better.</p><p> </p><p>            She already hated him, and was just barely tolerating his presence as an Evangelite. What would she do to him if she found out about his military background? Connor began to sweat. He made a quick exit, hurrying back to the safety of his uncle’s house. Perhaps Javaan liked him, but as demonstrated today, even Javaan couldn’t protect him from that savage centauress. She dropped him like a rock, and she could surely crush Connor to paste.</p><p> </p><p>            The panic in Connor’s gut was rising, threatening to spill out his mouth. He was going to die here, he just knew it. How easy it had been to eavesdrop on those careless women at the river! Eventually someone was going to slip up or overhear something they shouldn’t have, and Connor was going to pay for it.</p><p> </p><p>            Two could play at that game, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>            He took a seat at Evan’s desk, pushing contracts and paperwork aside until he found a blank piece of parchment. A pen was sitting in an inkwell nearby, tipped with a crow’s feather. Connor picked up the pen and hesitated for a long moment, staring down at the page.</p><p> </p><p>            Finally, he began writing.</p><p> </p><p>            “<em>Dear Sergeant Koslof,</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>            I know who destroyed Kelvingyard…”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>            He wrote slowly and carefully, taking long pauses between words. Fear and panic drove his hand, but something was holding him back as well. He didn’t want to write this letter. Or did he? He laid the pen down and buried his face in his hands. Should he really tell the Evangeline military what he heard at the river? They would surely send a battalion to come haul Elska away.</p><p> </p><p>            But what about the others? What about his uncle? They could easily get caught up in this too, and even Connor himself might get dragged into the fallout. If Evan found out Connor wrote the letter, he’d never speak to him again—assuming he didn’t kill him.</p><p> </p><p>            On the other hand…</p><p> </p><p>            With just the stroke of a pen, Connor could be hailed as the greatest hero in Evangelite history. The men who once taunted him would bow their heads in respect, and the women who rejected him would throw themselves at his feet! The most wanted criminals in the kingdom would finally be apprehended, all thanks to Connor Galanis.</p><p> </p><p>            He could live the rest of his life like a king. All he had to do was sacrifice his Uncle Evan and the Freelance Good Guys.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor stared down at his unfinished letter for a long time, weighing his options. Suddenly he heard footsteps creaking the floorboards of the porch. He quickly shoved the letter in his pocket and scrambled to one of the living chairs, swiping a random book on the way.</p><p> </p><p>            He tried to look as casual as possible by the time the door opened. Evan walked in and offered a greeting in the usual warm, friendly way he did. “Hello there. I was wondering where you ran off to! What are you reading, son?”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor floundered for a brief moment. Not even he knew. He glanced at the book’s cover and realized he was holding it upside-down. Not only that, but it was in a language he didn’t understand.</p><p> </p><p>            “Uh, nothing,” he replied, clearing his throat as he tossed the book aside. Evan walked over and took a look for himself.</p><p>A little smile crossed his face when he said, “Ah, you found my <em>Galsungi</em> dictionary. Very useful language to know when you’re down in the Midlands. You should ask Lukas sometime, I’m sure he’d be happy to teach it to you.”</p><p> </p><p>            With that, the captain gave his nephew an affectionate pat on the head and then approached the fireplace. He struck a match on his boot and lit a fire before disappearing into the kitchen. Connor worried his lip between his teeth, staring into the flames as his mind waged war with itself.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan had never done wrong by him. Even as his crew sneered and scoffed at Connor, his uncle had always been the first one to run to his defense. Not even his own parents had ever defended him like that. Connor wasn’t happy with him for keeping the Kelvingyard plot a secret, but as he sat there with a letter to the Evangeline military in his pocket, he reconsidered and realized it had been necessary.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor looked around for prying eyes. Evan was still in the kitchen, he could hear him rummaging around in the cabinets. He discreetly took the letter out of his pocket and crept towards the fireplace. He tossed it in the flames. As he watched it blacken and curl, he still wasn’t sure if he was making the right decision. He supposed only time would tell.</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Trip Underground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[CHAPTER 3: A TRIP UNDERGROUND]</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>            Three mercifully uneventful days passed. Connor kept to himself as much as possible until early one morning, when Evan approached him about a contract.</p><p> </p><p>            The Galanis boy suited up in his armor and joined the Steel Knuckle Squad as they boarded Shadow’s gazebo. Evan and Lukas saw them off before they left, inspecting all the straps and bolts to be sure the gazebo was secure.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan peeked through the mesh window and told his crew, “Take good care of my nephew, alright? If things get scary, I want you to abandon the job and come straight home. Do <em>not</em> put him in harm’s way!”</p><p> </p><p>            “You have nothing to worry about, Captain,” Linde assured him. “I read the contract ten times over. This job is idiot-proof! We’ll be back by tomorrow night, at the very latest.”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan didn’t like it, but he knew these kinds of experiences were necessary for Connor’s growth. He had no choice but to wave them goodbye and pray for their safety as the roc took off into the sky. Isaac pulled on his flight goggles as they ascended. He waved at Evan and Lukas. The captain and his commander waved back until Shadow was just a speck in the clouds.</p><p> </p><p>            “So,” began Lukas, “have you told him yet?”</p><p>“Told him what?” asked Evan.</p><p>“About us. About <em>you</em>. Does he know you’re a merryman, or will he have to pull an Isaac and find out the hard way?”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan let out a weary sigh and said, “No, I haven’t. I know I’ll have to tell him eventually. It’s just…Evangelites are…” He fumbled for the right words.</p><p>“Backwards, ignorant, yokels?” finished Lukas.</p><p>Evan bobbed his head to the side and replied, “You said it, not me. I haven’t even told my mother yet. I mean, do you think it’s really necessary? Why does my family need to know who I’m sleeping with anyway? Seems like none of their business, if you ask me.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Evan,” Lukas snapped, gesturing to himself, “in case you forgot, you’re not the only one around here tangling with the same sex! He’s going to find out eventually! Now do you want him to find out the easy way or the hard way? Because the rest of us aren’t going to pretend forever. We’re holding on to a lot of heavy secrets as it is, all for his sake. You need to just tell him already and take some of this weight off our backs.”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan groaned, scrubbing at his short hair, “I know, I know!”</p><p>“What’s the worst that can happen? He thinks you’re icky and calls you a mean name? If he can accept your lycanthropy, he can certainly accept this.”</p><p>“You’d think. But as far as Evangelites are concerned, they’re both horrid diseases without a cure, and the only way to keep them from spreading is to put the sick bastard down,” grumbled Evan.</p><p> </p><p>            “You really think that kid’s going to report you to the Evangeline authorities for sucking rod?” Lukas queried doubtfully.</p><p>“Of course not, and I don’t care what he thinks about <em>me</em>,” Evan told him bluntly. “I care what he thinks about the world outside that awful kingdom. The last thing I want is to leave a bad impression and scare him off. He’s already off to a rocky start. We need to handle this very carefully going forward.”</p><p> </p><p>            “No kidding,” said Lukas. “You know it’s only a matter of time before someone slips up. He’s going to find out about the Kelvingyard thing sooner or later, just like he’s going to find out you’re merry. We have too many people here holding on to too many secrets. It’s way past convoluted at this point, and one loose tongue can bring our whole livelihoods crashing down all over again!”</p><p> </p><p>            “It won’t come to that.”</p><p>“Won’t it? Say the kid hears something he shouldn’t. Say he decides to write home to Mama, who decides to write the Evangeline Guard, who decides to send a whole mess of troops down here to put us away! I told you this was a bad idea, Evan! I said right from the start, this whole thing would be nothing but a time bomb! But did you listen to me? Of course not, you never do!”</p><p> </p><p>            Lukas jabbed Evan in the chest with his finger and added, “If he finds out about Kelvingyard, there’s no way we can just let him walk. He either goes home tomorrow or he’s stuck with us forever. Which is it?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Or maybe, just <em>maybe</em> we can show him kindness and compassion, and he’ll grow out of his hateful ways.” Evan snapped back. “He’s not evil incarnate, Lukas. He’s just an ignorant, blue-country kid! Consider where he’s spent the last seventeen years of his life. Now that his environment has changed, he can start changing too.”</p><p> </p><p>            Lukas leaned forward, speaking through his teeth as he stressed his words, “But do we have that kind of <em>time</em>? It’s nice you want to bond with your nephew and all, but we already lost our village once and I’ll be damned before we lose it again! Especially to some little punk with a chip on his shoulder!”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan took a deep breath, face flushing pink. He was prepared to shout, even raised a finger to point at the road and tell Lukas to take a hike. But he quickly reconsidered, lowered his hand and let the breath out slowly through his nostrils.</p><p> </p><p>            In a decidedly calm tone, he said, “Lukas, please listen to me. Every time I look at that boy, I see a lot of things that turn my stomach. I see aspects of my father—his rage, his hatefulness, his stubborn ignorance…”</p><p> </p><p>            He tapped his fingers against his chest. “But I also see the worst parts of myself. Connor is just like me at that age. If you met me before I was humbled by mercenary life, you would have never given me the time of day. I was insufferable! I was a big, arrogant, bully who threw my weight around to get whatever I wanted. And even before I contracted lycanthropy, I wasn’t much better. But instead of muscle, I wielded my sickliness as a weapon. I lied and manipulated people. I got people <em>killed</em>, Lukas. Two innocent slaves, dead. The man I blackmailed into infecting me, and of course my father, both died because of choices I made…”</p><p> </p><p>            He placed his hands on Lukas’ shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze. He looked into his eyes and went on, “I know what makes this boy the menace he is, and I know what he needs to snap out of it. No amount of boot camp or therapy or medicine is going to set him right. He needs <em>adventure</em>. He needs <em>experiences</em>. He’ll never listen to his mother and father. He has to scrape his knees and learn things for himself.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Oh, sort of like how I can tell you fire’s hot until I’m blue in the face, but you won’t believe me until you burn your stupid hand,” said Lukas, tone as flat as his expression.</p><p>“Yes! Exactly!” exclaimed Evan, giving his shoulders a little shake. “Connor and I are the same breed of buffoon! If I could shake off my Evangelite ways, then so can he. I just need you to trust in my efforts, okay? Do you trust me, Lukas?”</p><p> </p><p>            A long silence passed between them. Birds twittered in the distance, wind whispering through the grass. Finally, Lukas pushed the captain away and began walking down the road. “Fine. Go ahead and burn your hand,” he said. “But so help me, you better not burn down our village again!”</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p><p>            Shadow touched down in the rural outskirts of Stonebirch, a Folkvaran city sitting at the base of a great, snowcapped mountain. From the sky, Connor and the Steel Knuckle Squad saw colorful crop fields branching out from the city, flourishing in the summer sun.</p><p> </p><p>            Their client’s farm stood out from the rest, for the soil was dull and gray. They landed on the edge of what was once a field of corn, perhaps, but the few wilted stalks that remained had turned black as if the color had been sucked right out of them. The rest of the corn was lost in the slurry of gray, sludgy goop covering the ground.</p><p> </p><p>            “Yep,” said Balthazaar, “look like slime activity to me. Gods, but they did a number on this place!”</p><p> </p><p>            The mercenaries approached the humble farm house sitting atop the hill, overlooking the desiccated fields. They knocked on the door and their client was quick to greet them. He was the gruffest-looking elf Connor had ever seen, clad in dirty cotton clothes with muddy boots on his feet. His ratty, green hair was pulled into braids. Connor was noticing a theme regarding the Folkvaran people and braids.</p><p> </p><p>            “Good afternoon, sir,” greeted Linde, politely removing her witch-style hat. “We’re the Freelance Good Guys. You contacted us about a monster problem?”</p><p>“Sure did!” said the man. “Got a slime infestation like ya wouldn’t believe! I complained to the gov’ment and they sent the Peoples’ Protection League to deal with it. Now tell me, does this look like it’s been ‘dealt with’?” He stretched his arm towards the miserable field behind them.</p><p> </p><p>            “The slimes were gone fer a few weeks, then they came roarin’ right back in even bigger numbers!” he continued. “Those lazy League bastards didn’t do anything except sneak off with some of my tools! Anyway, I heard good things about yer crew. Folks said you were the best. Why don’t ya prove it and get these slimes outta here fer good? My whole livelihood’s at stake here!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Understood,” said Skel, pulling a notepad from his pocket. He got his pencil ready to write and asked, “Do you have any more information about these slimes?”</p><p>The man shook his head and told them, “Wish I did! All I know is, they show up after sunset and the crops are dead come mornin’. I’ve tried poison, traps, magic wards…Shoot, even dogs ‘n cats won’t touch the nasty feckers! They got no natural predators, far as I can tell. They just multiply ‘n multiply ‘til they’re outta control!”</p><p> </p><p>            “Sounds about right,” said Balthazaar. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ve dealt with things like this before. Your farm will be back in order before you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>            The mercenaries made their way across the barren field to search for clues. Their boots and hooves squished through layers of black rot, the remains of the unfortunate corn. Connor pinched his nostrils, expecting it to smell like mold. He soon realized it had no smell at all. The field was strangely odorless, as if not only the color had been stolen from it, but the life itself.</p><p> </p><p>            “What’s a slime anyway?” asked Connor.</p><p>As he poked through the muck with his sword, Balthazaar answered, “They’re little monsters made of, uh…some kind of snot. I don’t know the proper term.”</p><p>“Mucus,” sighed Skel.</p><p>“Yeah, that,” continued Balthazaar. “There’s a few different kinds of slimes. Most of ‘em ain’t dangerous to people, but they can mess up the environment real good if you let them. If these ones are eating plants, then we’re probably dealing with green slimes. They’re the most pathetic ones of the bunch.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Oh! I know what you’re talking about!” said Connor. “Back in the Valley we call ‘em ‘goobers’. Grandmama had a few in the cellar once. I took a match to them and they melted.”</p><p> </p><p>            Linde nodded and said, “Fire’s one way to deal with them. Ice is another.” She smiled and waggled her glowing hand, leaving a trail of mist.</p><p>“And salt,” added Javaan, patting the heavy bag of salt hanging off his saddle.</p><p>“All we need to do is find the nest and destroy it,” said Balthazaar. “Once the master slime is dead, the rest of them will peter out. Look for any dark nooks or burrows. The little buggers hate sunshine.”</p><p> </p><p>            The crew spread out and scouted different corners of the field. It was not flat and orderly like the fields in the Blue Valley. Its shape was highly irregular, broken up by massive stumps and boulders. There were plenty of dark little crannies to search, countless places for monsters to hide.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor passed by the dry, black husk of a cornstalk. Curious, he touched one of its gnarled leaves and it immediately crumbled to dust. “It’s like they took the life right out of the crops,” he observed.</p><p>“That’s what they do. Once they’re in the soil, they suck everything good out through the roots,” explained Linde, peeking behind a stone.</p><p> </p><p>            “Woah! Hey, guys!” called Javaan. “The ground’s all weird over here!”</p><p>Skel sighed, “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“Come here, feel for yourself!” Javaan beckoned them with a sweep of his arm, standing in the center of a circular slope in the field. The rest of the crew made their way over to him.</p><p> </p><p>            The ground was remarkably different in this area, Connor noticed. It warped and gave way easily, as if they were walking across a sheet pulled taut.</p><p>“What the…?” Balthazaar muttered, stooping to poke the soil with his sword.</p><p> </p><p>            That was a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>            The blade poked through the ground with ease, making a tiny hole that instantly ripped into a massive ravine. It seemed this stretch of earth was held together by roots and nothing more. The ground gave way beneath the mercenaries and they tumbled through the crevice in a flurry of screams. They landed on a slippery slope and rocketed down and down, unable to stop themselves. The slope sent them into the depths of a deep, dark cavern. They finally hit the bottom, landing in a pile of mush.</p><p> </p><p>            “Everyone okay?” called Linde. The others responded with a round of mutters. Light poured in from the crevice high above, but the area it illuminated was small compared to the colossal size of the cave. Connor could barely see a thing in the bold shadows around them.</p><p> </p><p>            They looked back at the slope leading out of the cave. It was much too steep to climb, and it was slick with slime on top of that. Balthazaar shielded his eyes from the sun, looking up at the exit. “Well, shit,” he grumbled. “Skel, think you can tele-whatever us back up there?”</p><p> </p><p>            “Ha! I’m flattered, Ballyhoo. But you’re giving me way too much credit if you think I can move your fat asses <em>that</em> far,” Skel told him. “I can certainly <em>try</em>, but I can’t promise I won’t drop Javaan a few times.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Uh, let’s not do that,” Javaan said quickly. “Look at this place, it’s huge! It has to have another way out somewhere.”</p><p>“Lights on, everyone,” said Balthazaar. Then he, Javaan and Connor shook the candleseed bottles dangling off their belts. The seeds broke open and the bottles lit up with a brilliant glow. Linde instead casted a spell, conjuring a little orb of white light. It hovered above her head and followed her as she led the way deeper into the cave.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor followed behind the others. They turned around when they heard him yelp, and found him sitting on the ground. “It’s okay, just slipped!” he said, getting back to his feet. Only then did he notice the layer of green slime on his boots. It glistened in the candleseed light, and he looked at his hands with disgust when he realized they were coated too.</p><p> </p><p>            “Ugh, gross! What is this?” he said, turning his hands all around.</p><p>Javaan raised his candleseed bottle high, illuminating a wider area of the cave. The mercenaries cried out with disgust, for everything in front of them was coated in a glistening layer of the same green goop.</p><p> </p><p>            “Welp, found the nest,” said Balthazaar.</p><p>“Gods, it’s enormous! Look, it’s spread over there too!” exclaimed Skel, pointing at the other side of the cave. He opened his mouth to speak further, but closed it when he heard a strange noise. The others fell silent too, listening closely.</p><p> </p><p>            It was a wet, squelching sound, like a dozen pairs of boots squishing through mud. But every one of the mercenaries were still, looking at one another in confusion. Then they found the source: the goop on the easternmost wall was undulating, squirming, dripping away from the stone in fat, round globs. Some were the size of a man’s head, others no larger than grapes The globs held their shape when they landed, and then they began to squirm away from the mercenaries.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor slapped a hand over his mouth and doubled over. “I’m gonna fuckin’ retch!” he gagged.</p><p>“There’s <em>hundreds</em> of them! No wonder that farm’s a mess!” said Javaan.</p><p>“They don’t seem to like our lights very much,” observed Balthazaar. He held his candleseed bottle high and lit up another slimy wall. This wall too began to quiver, losing its slime by the glob. The globs slowly fled towards the darkness deeper into the cave.</p><p> </p><p>            “What do we do? Are they gonna gang up on us?” panicked Connor.</p><p>Skel told him flippantly, “Oh, stop your fretting! They’re foul in every way, yes, but they can’t hurt you. Just salt your weapons and let’s get to work.”</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan unsheathed one of his swords and spit on its blade, rubbing his saliva from top to bottom until it was wet. Then he pierced the top of a salt bag with it and the blade came away coated in white crystals. Connor, Skel, and Balthazaar followed suit, while Linde willed frosty magic to the end of her wand. Connor resented the fact that he was armed with nothing more than a blunt, iron staff. Why didn’t his uncle trust him with a blade? As if he were a child! What an insult, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>            Together they began the slow, arduous job of exterminating the nest. Connor tried stomping the slimes to death. They only reconstituted themselves and squirmed away. They were slow-moving and easy to catch, but their sheer numbers made the task more daunting than they expected.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan slashed another slime with his salted blade. The creature melted down into a sizzling puddle. “Ugh, we’re going to be here all night,” he groaned.</p><p>“Not if we find their queen,” Balthazaar reminded him. “That’s the only one in the colony that can multiply. Just look for one that’s bigger than all the others.”</p><p>“When did you become such an expert on slime monsters, Ballyhoo?” asked Linde, blasting a group of the creatures with her magic. They froze solid, then Javaan shattered them under his hoof.</p><p> </p><p>            Balthazaar explained, “I saw them at a zoo while me ‘n Javaan were in Viersen a while back. This zookeeper lady told us all about them! She was really, uh…<em>compelling</em>.”</p><p>“You mean she had a huge chest,” Javaan said flatly. “I’m surprised you remember a word she said! I sure don’t…I remember those honeydews though.”</p><p> </p><p>            Linde rolled her eyes and scolded, “Would you guys behave? We’re supposed to be setting a good example here!” She tipped her head towards Connor, snickering to himself on the other side of the cave. The ceiling stretched on into a black abyss. Slimes fell down like raindrops occasionally, their splatters echoing off the walls.</p><p> </p><p>            One landed on Connor’s shoulder and he shrieked, cursing and flailing until it fell off. He smacked it repeatedly with his salted staff until it was nothing but liquid. “What if there’s no other way out? What if we’re stuck in here until we starve to death?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>            “Won’t happen,” Balthazaar told him. “Worst case scenario, Skel can float himself out and get help. But that wouldn’t reflect too good on us, would it? We’re supposed to be professionals! These slimes have no brains and they still managed to find a way out. If we can’t do the same, then as far as I’m concerned, we <em>deserve</em> to die dow—”</p><p> </p><p>            Linde cut him off with a piercing shriek. The mercenaries whirled in her direction just in time to watch a giant, green glob ooze down from the ceiling. It dropped fast and landed right on top of the elfenne, absorbing her into its gelatinous body. It was taller than Javaan and had more mass than the five of them put together.</p><p> </p><p>            The monstrous slime jiggled and undulated, slowly making its way towards Skel. “She’s going to suffocate! Get her out!” the goblin shouted. Javaan was the first to spring into action, charging the monster with his salted sword. He made a long slash across its body. The wound sizzled briefly, then quickly mended itself.</p><p> </p><p>            They could see Linde’s blurry silhouette floating inside. She was thrashing and clutching her neck in distress. His sword was clearly useless, so Javaan threw a fistful of salt at the creature. The salt sizzled its mucus on contact, but its mass was simply too great, for it mended itself with its own ooze once again.</p><p> </p><p>            “The salt isn’t working!” announced Javaan. He thought he was out of the slime’s reach, until a big, blunt tendril poked out from its mass and slapped against his head. His head and shoulders were absorbed right into it, and he was struggling to pull free from its vacuum. He twisted his body and dug his hooves into the ground, but it was far too slippery, and he was quickly being pulled in with Linde.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor danced about, panicking helplessly while Balthazaar rushed in and grabbed Javaan’s tail. “Skel!” Balthazaar called, and he needn’t say more. The goblin pressed his fingertips to his temples, monitoring the bulge in his veins as he hit the monster with a blast of telekinesis. His power rippled the air, and then it rippled the slime’s body, jiggling it like gelatin.</p><p> </p><p>            The pulse disoriented the slime just long enough to lose its grip on Javaan. The centaur pulled free with a gasp and staggered back. But Linde was still lost deep in its mass, and she was starting to grow weak.</p><p> </p><p>            “Get her out of there already so I can blow this thing apart!” urged Skel. Balthazaar and Javaan searched their persons, but they had nothing long or blunt enough to reach her. They looked at eachother, then their gazes turned to Connor.</p><p> </p><p>            “Connor, we need that staff! Now!” called Balthazaar. Connor ran towards them with the weapon outstretched. It never made it to their grasp before he slipped on a patch of slime and went sliding across the ground. He scrambled to get back up, slipping too much to stand.</p><p> </p><p>            With a harsh sigh, Skel ripped the staff from his hand with his telekinesis and passed it to Balthazaar. He then focused his power on the slime, pushing against it with all the force he could muster. Telekinesis held the monster in place, keeping its tendrils to itself while Balthazaar pierced it with the staff.</p><p> </p><p>            He probed deep inside until he felt something tug back. “We got her!” he said, then Javaan hooked his arms around him and they began to pull her out. They groaned with exertion, straining against the creature’s liquid suction.</p><p> </p><p>            It did not want to let her go. But soon enough, Linde escaped its hold and landed on the ground with a splat. She curled up on the ground in a coughing fit, gasping for air. “Everyone clear the area!” demanded Skel. The mercenaries wasted no time obeying. Balthazaar scooped up Linde and they all ran to the other end of the cave.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan snatched Connor by the sleeve as he passed, dragging him behind a boulder where they took cover. Skel gnashed his teeth, one eye shut tightly as the other struggled to stay open. Tremors rattled him from head to toe, and he began to levitate. Little stones and slimes were caught up in the building power of his magic. They briefly floated around him before being violently flung in all directions.</p><p> </p><p>            An invisible beam of magic rocketed from Skel. The only thing visible was the rippling effect as it tore through the air. It collided with the slime, slowly pushing its body inward. It was as if the monster was folding in on itself, and then suddenly, it exploded into a fine mist.</p><p> </p><p>            Slime particles shot every which way, splattering violently against the walls, ceiling, and floor. The force of it knocked Skel on his back. Cautiously, the mercenaries peeked out from behind their cover.</p><p> </p><p>            Their gazes drifted around at the cave. They saw Skel lying on the ground, slowly pushing himself upright.</p><p> </p><p>            “Nicely done, Skel!” praised Balthazaar. He rushed out from behind the boulder and helped the goblin to his feet.</p><p>Skel looked down at his filthy, slime-splattered robe in dismay. “Ugh, that thing was probably crawling with germs…and now they’re all on me!” he grumbled.</p><p>“Is it dead? Like, for good?” queried Connor, eyes darting about anxiously.</p><p>“I ripped the blasted thing apart on an atomic level,” panted Skel. “It damn well <em>better</em> be dead!”</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan said, “I don’t know, guys. Monsters aren’t to be trusted. Linde, you should freeze the place just to be sure. I don’t ever want to come back here for round two…”</p><p>“No kidding,” mumbled Linde. “Alright, boys, get behind me!”</p><p> </p><p>            Her crewmates obeyed, sticking close to her as she waved her glowing wand in circles. It left misty trails in its wake, and after five revolutions, she unleashed its charge at the floor. Ice crackled and groaned as it spread out in crystalline formations. It spread across the ground and up the walls, freezing any juvenile slimes it touched solid. The larger slimes became covered in a light layer of frost and their frantic jiggling slowed to a crawl.</p><p> </p><p>            Before long, every surface was white and glittering. The temperature dropped significantly, enough that the mercenaries could see their breath steaming out from their nostrils. “That ought to do it,” Linde said brightly, tucking her wand away in her cleavage. Between the death of the master slime and the uninhabitable temperature of the cave, they were certain that any surviving slimes would dwindle away on their own.</p><p> </p><p>            “No way! That was class!” exclaimed Connor. He turned all around in the little patch of unfrozen ground, in disbelief at the cave’s dramatic transformation.</p><p> </p><p>            They jumped at another strange noise echoing up from the depths. It sounded like falling rocks or perhaps shifting earth. “Anyone feel a rumble just now?” queried Javaan, lifting one of his hooves. He looked down at the ground like it was about to betray him.</p><p> </p><p>            And then it did.</p><p> </p><p>            The dirt gave way beneath the mercenaries, opening a gaping pit. The pit exposed another chamber beneath the cave, just as deep and vast as the one above. But the crew did not fall far, for they landed on top of a colossal mountain of…</p><p> </p><p>            “Buttons?” queried Linde. She raked her hand through the pile of buttons below her, no different than the kind found on any shirt. The mountain was ten men tall, and as far as they could tell, it was buttons all the way through. There must have been hundreds of millions of them!</p><p> </p><p>            “Aww, why couldn’t they be coins?” grumped Balthazaar.</p><p>“Excuse me!” blurted Connor. “<em>Why</em> is there a <em>cave</em> full of <em>buttons</em> under this guy’s <em>farm</em>?” He stressed the words with all his might, as if the more he tried the comprehend it, the angrier he got.</p><p> </p><p>            “Shit…There’s probably a hoardmaster nearby…” Balthazaar said quietly, scanning the chamber around them. It was so dark, they couldn’t even see the base of the button-mountain. He turned to Skel and said, “This is getting too hairy. Float up there and get some help, will ya? We’ve got to get the kid out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>            Skel looked at him like he’d just spoken another language, cocking his hairless brows. “You want me to levitate? Way up there? After all <em>that</em>?” he panted, gesturing to the chamber above. “Once again, you flatter me!”</p><p>Linde began carefully sliding down the mountain, buttons rattling around her. She sighed, “This stuff got down here somehow. Maybe we can sneak out without being—”</p><p> </p><p>            “Linde, look out!” shouted Javaan, but it was too late. A shadow reached up from the depths and grabbed Linde’s ankle, snatching her into the darkness. She disappeared with a shriek, and her crew lunged after her in an instant. They scrambled down the unsteady mountain, buttons flying and shifting beneath them. They could hear Linde screaming ahead, could see her magical orb bouncing wildly to and fro.</p><p> </p><p>            It illuminated flashes of a creature, something scaly and massive. The crew stopped and shielded their eyes when the whole cave suddenly lit up with a bright flash. Linde’s orb steadied. Then they could see her, caught in the grasp of a white, glittering dragon statue. But it was no statue at all. It was a scaly, rat-like beast, no smaller than the slime monster they encountered earlier.</p><p> </p><p>            Linde squirmed out of the dragon’s frozen grip. Her crew met her at the bottom of the mountain. Together they stared at the miserable creature. They could hear croaks rasping from its gaping maw, saw the ice crackle as it twitched, fighting against the magic. Hot steam gusted from its throat and nostrils with every breath, keeping the inside of its mouth thawed while the rest of it was frozen solid.</p><p> </p><p>            “Whoo-wee! That’s a big one!” exclaimed Balthazaar.</p><p>“That spell won’t hold him for long,” warned Linde. “What do you want to do?”</p><p>“I think we should slay it, obviously. We can’t just let it continue digging a hole under our client’s property!” said Skel.</p><p>Javaan asked, “Yeah, but who should do the honors?”</p><p> </p><p>            The crew fell silent. All eyes fell on Connor, who looked back at them in befuddlement. “What? Me?” he asked.</p><p>Balthazaar said, “Sure, why not? Go in through the mouth and aim for the top of the head. Easy.” He unsheathed his sword and handed it to Connor.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor reached for the weapon, nearly dropping it in his eagerness. “Okay!” he beamed, and hurried to the front of the dragon. He aimed the blade towards its open maw, then froze when Balthazaar said, “Hold on! Before you do this, you have to promise us one thing…”</p><p> </p><p>            “What?”</p><p>“You have to promise that you will <em>not</em>, under any circumstances, tell your uncle about this,” Balthazaar finished, brow sagged with desperation.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor thought about it for a moment. He was already holding on to two secrets that could get him in unfathomable amounts of trouble. What was one more?</p><p> </p><p>            “I promise,” he said, and then he thrusted the blade through the dragon’s mouth and into its brain. The beast let out a long, ragged, croak before it fell silent. One last puff of steam gusted from its nostrils, and then none more. Connor grunted as he yanked the sword out. He stared at its blood-soaked blade with wonder. Had he really just slain a dragon? A terribly incapacitated dragon, but even still, he couldn’t wipe the prideful smile off his face as the mercenaries praised him with a round of cheers.</p><p> </p><p>            The crew broke off one of the dragon’s great, clawed toes as proof they had slain it. Their client wasn’t going to be happy to hear it, but like it or not, his farm was sitting on top of a hoardmaster’s burrow. The hoardmaster had likely been chipping away at the soil for hundreds of years, destabilizing the ground beneath his property more and more. Now, he would either have to abandon his farm or fill in the massive cave. Either way, the Freelance Good Guys would be paid for their efforts.</p><p> </p><p>            As the others prepared to move on, Linde lagged behind to pick through the mountain of buttons.</p><p>“You coming, Lin?” queried Balthazaar.</p><p>“Er, yes, just one second!” she called back, stuffing another handful of interesting buttons in her pocket.</p><p>“What are you saving that garbage for?” asked Skel.</p><p> </p><p>            “It’s not garbage!” she insisted. “I can use these in my dressmaking. If we had the time, I’d sit here and pick through these for days!”</p><p>Javaan chuckled, “I bet that dragon felt the same. He must have been collecting these for centuries! Doubt he was going to make a dress any time soon though…”</p><p> </p><p>            They passed through a narrow corridor dug into the earth. It was just big enough for the dragon to squeeze through, and so it was enough for the mercenaries to travel through single-file, with Javaan leading the way. Balthazaar sat in his saddle, both of them clutching their swords in white-knuckled grips. They needed to be prepared for anything this wretched cave could throw at them. They had sworn to protect their captain’s nephew at all costs.</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan sniffed at the air, then wrinkled his nostrils and shouted, “Balthazaar!”</p><p>Recoiling at his accusatory tone, Balthazaar exclaimed, “What?”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘what’? You farted and you know it!”</p><p>“No, I didn’t!”</p><p>“Well, it was one of you! Gods, that’s terrible! See a doctor!” accused Javaan, shooting a suspicious glance back at his crew.</p><p> </p><p>            “He who smelt it, dealt it,” Linde told him sagely.</p><p>Walking just ahead of her, Skel waved his hand in front of his face and coughed, “Ugh! No, really, what <em>is</em> that? It smells absolutely rancid!”</p><p> </p><p>            After a moment, the humans’ and the elfenne’s inferior noses caught up to the stench. Connor pulled his bandana over his nose and gagged, “Whatever it is, we’re downwind of it. Guys, hurry up so we can get out of here!”</p><p> </p><p>            Javaan threw caution to the wind and picked up his pace, trotting through the winding, narrow corridor. The others hurried along behind him until he came to a sudden stop. Skel smacked into his backside, Linde rammed into Skel, and Connor sandwiched Linde between them.</p><p> </p><p>            The corridor had opened up to a humble subterranean city. They had apparently stumbled upon a colony of trolls, for that was the only species they saw roaming around the open plaza. Giant white mushrooms sprouted from the soil like trees, standing as tall as two men, and their bioluminescence casted a dim glow all over the city.</p><p> </p><p>            Other than the mushrooms, the troll’s colony was a world of brown. Simple structures lined the roads in a compact fashion, each one made from nothing but sticks and mud. The trolls, too, were all clad in brown clothes. Each outfit was simplistic and minimal, nothing fancier than a loin cloth or a dress.</p><p> </p><p>            As much as the mercenaries wanted to stay and explore such a fascinating place, the stench of it was unbearable. It turned their stomachs and brought tears to their eyes. Where exactly the smell was coming from, they could not say. It seemed to permeate every street, every wall, and the air itself.</p><p> </p><p>            “Where on Gaia are we?” asked Balthazaar, pinching his nostrils shut as he examined his surroundings.</p><p>“Who cares? Let’s leave! The whole place smells like an outhouse, it’s unbearable!” Skel urged them, giving Javaan’s rear a shove.</p><p> </p><p>            They didn’t get much further before a troll flagged them down from across the street. He was a hulking creature like any other troll, with dull green skin and horns atop his head. “You! Brok know you! You come see Brok home?” he called, lumbering up to them with a big, toothy grin. His oversized fangs jutted up from his bottom jaw.</p><p> </p><p>            The mercenaries looked at one another. Neither of them had answers, so Balthazaar cleared his throat and asked, “Uh, I’m sorry. Do we know you?”</p><p>The troll’s smile flipped, brow sagging above. He seemed disappointed when he said, “You not remember Brok face? Brok remember <em>you</em>, even though not see you in long time! Brok thought big fire kill you! Happy to see alive!”</p><p> </p><p>            Sharing another confused round of glances, a silence passed over the crew. Then Linde slapped a hand over her mouth and gasped, “Oh, my god! Yes, I-I know who you are! Of course we remember you!” Her smile was as strained as the eagerness in her tone. “You guys do such a good job keeping things sanitary in our village, we do appreciate it!”</p><p> </p><p>            Brok’s big smile returned. “No, Brok appreciate village! Make lots of goods for Brok colony! You stay long time?”</p><p>“Er, no,” said Linde, anxiously fingering her ponytail. “We were actually just on our way out, but we’re a bit lost. Can you show us the way to, um…up there?” She pointed towards the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>            “You want go Topside? Brok show you way. Follow Brok!” The troll beckoned them with a sweep of his giant, leathery hand, then began leading them down a wide street. “Not lot untrolls want see Brok colony,” he said. “Make Brok sad. Untrolls miss out much culture! Tasty food! Nice trolls!”</p><p> </p><p>            “It’s certainly an interesting place,” Linde said politely, tears streaming down her face. The stench was burning their eyeballs, yet the trolls bustled casually about like they didn’t even notice. Finally the realization caught up to the other mercenaries. They shared wide-eyed expressions when they realized this wasn’t just any random troll colony. These were, in fact, the trolls that hauled the filth out of their village cesspit every month.</p><p> </p><p>            They had never once spoken to these trolls. In fact, the villagers made a point to avoid them, thinking them filthy and surely riddled with disease. But all this time, the trolls had been making note of their faces and keeping them in their thoughts, even worrying for their well-beings. Each of them was hit with a pang of guilt. Then a pang of repulsion when they realized these buildings weren’t made of mud.</p><p> </p><p>            They could see sunlight just ahead, beaming through an opening at the top of a hill. With it came a merciful rush of fresh, outdoor air. As he walked them to the exit, Brok said, “Visit Brok again! Next time meet Brok family! Show you pet dragon! Funny dragon like belly scratch! Steal all Brok buttons!”</p><p> </p><p>            *</p><p> </p><p>            Connor and the Steel Knuckle Squad arrived back in Drifter’s Hollow the next day, just as the crew was gathering for dinner. Connor had no food to contribute, so he sat down on a log and waited for someone to hand him a plate. The plaza was noisy with chatter, sizzling food, and clattering dishes.</p><p> </p><p>            Evan spotted his nephew through the crowd and rushed towards him. “Thank the gods, you’re back!” he greeted. His shoulders sank with relief, and Connor didn’t doubt he’d been holding them rigid since he left.</p><p> </p><p>            Sitting beside him, Evan asked, “So, how was your first contract?”</p><p>Connor didn’t answer him right away. He wasn’t even sure what to tell him. He wanted so badly to spill everything about the secret cave, the master slime that nearly killed them, the thieving hoardmaster, and the trolls’ underground dung-colony. He would have loved to gloat about slaying a dragon and make his uncle proud.</p><p> </p><p>            But these things would not make Evan proud. They would only make him worry, and worse yet, the Steel Knuckle Squad would get in trouble for breaking their promise and dragging Connor into a dangerous situation. Perhaps they had mishandled things in Evan’s eyes, but Connor didn’t regret a single moment of the adventure.</p><p> </p><p>            “Um…it was…” Connor began, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and continued, “Boring! Totally boring. Just, you know, killed some goobers and called it a day. Could’ve done it with my eyes closed.”</p><p> </p><p>            Evan smiled. “Really now? Well, sometimes boring is a good thing. I told you it’s not all guts and glory. Think you still want to be a mercenary?”</p><p>“Yes!” Connor answered, perhaps with too much enthusiasm. He dropped his tone to a whisper and said, “I mean, it’s a lot better than being a soldier. I hate being bossed around by the sergeant.”</p><p>“But you don’t mind being bossed around by me, huh?” jested Evan.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor simply shrugged. They sat together for a while, taking plates of food when they were offered. Between bites of bread, Evan said, “I’m glad the job went well, son. I’ll see if I have a more exciting job for you in the future. I don’t want to bore you to death with work that’s beneath you.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor perked up, nearly dropping his plate. “Really? You mean jobs with like, fighting and stuff?”</p><p>“We’ll see,” Evan said slowly. “But before you can take on that kind of work, you’re going to need a proper weapon. And if I give you a proper weapon, you need to learn how to use it.”</p><p> </p><p>            “I want a greatsword! Please, please, can I have a greatsword?” the Evangelite pleaded.</p><p>“Tell you what,” began Evan. “I’ll start giving you combat lessons in the evenings. We’ll practice with my entire arsenal, and I’ll grant you whichever weapon you prove most proficient with. It’ll be yours to keep, so long as you show me you can use it responsibly. Then we can talk about sending you on more contracts.”</p><p> </p><p>            “Deal!” Connor grinned, extending his hand. The two shared a solid handshake.</p><p>Before he let go, Evan squeezed his hand and told him, “Make us proud, Connor.”</p><p> </p><p>            Connor smiled back at him, but the smile faded when he noticed a blonde head of hair peeking over Evan’s shoulder. Elska had showed up for dinner for the first time the Evangelite arrived. She was glaring at him from the edge of the plaza. The moment they locked eyes, she sucked down all the beer in her stein and then smashed it against her head. Tiny shards of glass rained down, yet she didn’t even flinch.</p><p> </p><p>            He knew she was trying to intimidate him, trying to scare him into returning home. Whatever her motives, she had made it very clear since he arrived that she did not want him there.</p><p> </p><p>            Connor swallowed his fear and held his resolve. No, he would not let her bully him away. This was his chance to finally prove himself to the world, to show his countrymen he wasn’t the failure they thought he was, to finally be free of Evangeline’s rigid way of life. He could do it all without sacrificing the Freelance Good Guys.</p><p> </p><p>            In retrospect, he was glad he burned that letter.</p><p> </p><p>            <strong>END</strong></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you liked or didn’t like and I’ll use your feedback to improve my writing. Your advice only makes me more powerful. </p><p>Connor has a lot of challenges to overcome if he wants to become a Freelance Good Guy. Between his temper and backwards upbringing, do you really think he can do it? We’ll find out in future stories, so be sure to check back soon if you want to see more! New stories are posted about once a month.</p><p>I swear I didn’t mean to lean so hard into the toilet humor in this one…Can you believe I’m older than 5? I did enjoy getting a chance to write more stuff with the Steel Knuckle Squad though. A couple SKS-centric stories got scrapped a while back, so it probably looks like I’m neglecting them. Sorry, Squad. They’ll get more chances to shine soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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